Totally Tara!
by Love Robin
Summary: When Kim totally can't… who, like, totally can? Totally Tara! Oh, and Bonnie too… Romances to be revealed. Sorry, TT! and not the WPS universe. In response to a KP Slash Haven Challenge.
1. Dog Day, After Noon

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Kim Possible, Tara or Bonnie. They are owned by Disney and Mark McCorkle and Bob Schooley. Any original characters shown or mentioned belong to me and can not be used without permission. Okay?

**Totally Tara!**

Chapter One – _Dog Day, After Noon_

Bonnie Rockwaller could not believe it. Her life was in danger. Again!

_Stupid Kim Possible! No matter where she goes, _she thought, _trouble just follows her! _

She peeked out from between the hospital beds where she was crouching to see if the coast was clear enough for her to make a break for it while the girl in the cheerleader uniform stood her ground against the dangerous weirdo.

An eight foot tall weirdo that looked like a dog-headed Egyptian statue come to life, naked but for only one of those ancient desert-style black skirts, sandals, thick banded wrist bracers, and a gaudy gold medallion on a chain resting on his chest.

_I knew I shouldn't have gotten talked into coming here! _Bonnie ranted internally as she tried to figure out what to do. _Kim, I blame you!_

Just minutes ago they had been in a quiet hospital room. She and the rest of the old Middleton High Cheer Squad had come to visit two of their number who had been in comas for the past week and a half. Bonnie did not really care about them. She rarely cared about anyone. However she _was_ subject to peer pressure, especially a majority. So not willing to risk being ostracized as a pariah she agreed to come and in the process managed to take control and make it seem like it was her idea from the beginning.

It was even her idea for them all to wear their old cheer uniforms. To show their respect. That they cared. Which meant of course she simply_ had _to out do them all by being the last of the group to leave. To show that she cared the most.

She was after all, a _Rockwaller,_ and Rockwallers do not do anything less than Over The Top.

As per to her plan, Bonnie got there early so as to be the first to arrive. There were machines of all kinds near the heads of the beds, the constant _beep beep beep_ of the heart monitor _thingies _made her uneasy. For long minutes she had nervously rattled around the room the couple shared, trying not to think too much about them or the past they shared. _After all it's not as if I like you two losers, _she told herself yet again, _But no one deserves this. Not even you._

Looking at the first bed, _Especially not you._

While it was unusual for hospitals to have co-ed rooms an exception was made for the pair. Not because of who they were, but because as they shared the same mystifying affliction it was a matter of practicality they share the same equipment. _Who goes to sleep and simply doesn't wake up? How stupid is that?_

They arrived mostly on time in groups of twos and threes, each bringing gifts of flowers and cards and balloons. None as fancy or expensive as the Aromatherapy Ambient Sound Machine which was her gift, Bonnie noted smugly.

Thus began the vigil.

Seemingly endless in Bonnie's frustrated opinion. They sat around for hours while family and other friends of the stricken couple came and went. Plain that the squad was going to do the entire stretch of visiting hours, Bonnie put on her best Social Face, determined to be The Last One Standing, so to speak.

To show she cared. Really.

With soft giggles and light laughter, the clutch of teenaged girls seemed intent on bringing the atmosphere of a quiet slumber party to the dreary occasion. Nails, magazines, low-playing music, gossip and general catching up since graduation. During which each took turns to stand by the beds and quietly say whatever came to mind as it was well-known that coma victims could possibly hear. The entire time Bonnie played at gracious hostess, as if it were her own home, to ensure she remain the center of everyone's attention.

Finally came the twenty minute warning and in the same groups and reverse order they arrived in, they hugged and left, promising to do it again soon.

Until there was just the two of them and it seemed the other wanted to be last as well.

The two girls locked narrowed eyes and wordlessly the final challenge was laid down and accepted. Neither moved nor showed any indication of doing so.

Until the wall exploded inward.

The reflexes of both former cheerleaders had them diving for cover. Bonnie for between the beds, the other for the open doorway of a walk-in closet, as chunks of plaster, drywall, wooden splinters and who-knew-what-else debris showered the room.

Which is when Dog Face shouldered his way in. He looked about, then stalked for the beds and the helpless patients therein.

"Stop right there!"

Bonnie looked up and stared as the other cheerleader somersaulted back into the room to position herself between him and the first bed. _No! Not you, not here, not now! Why??_

"Don't you know visiting hours are over?" she challenged sweetly, in a fighting stance.

"Get out of my way _girl!_ None shall thwart neither the wrath nor vengeance of the_ Jack-aaaaaal‼"_ his name became a howl, "Step aside and I shall spare you your life."

However the teen was unmoved, an expression of resolution on her face, "I'm sorry, I'm afraid I can't do that," she said rather cheerfully, "You should just leave a message and leave. I promise I'll see it gets delivered."

_You idiot, _Bonnie threw her thoughts at the girl as if she might hear and heed, _You'll only get yourself, or worse me, killed! _Then she felt something scurry up her back to her shoulder. Only her senses of self preservation and image enabled her not to squeal in terror. She turned her head to spy Stoppable's insufferable hairless rodent next to her head. "Really?" she whispered, "Must I suffer you too?"

Rufus the naked mole-rat nodded and squeaked out something that sounded a lot like, "uh'hu uh'hu," before looking at the main action. Bonnie looked too.

The Jackal growled at the girl in his way, "Just who in the _hades_ are you anyway?"

Breaking her stance, she took a step forward and extended her hand, the sincerest of smiles on her face…,

"Hi! My name's Tara. Like, nice to meet'cha!"

With the same comical cant to his head that dogs do when examining something puzzling, the giant looked at the tiny slip of blondeness with blinking eyes. Amazingly he dropped to one knee in front of her and shook the proffered hand.

"Uhm, nice t'meet youse too…?"

_Is she frikkin' kidding me? _Bonnie stared agape.

"I know you!" Tara beamed pleasantly. "You're that Jackie Oakes fellow from the GWA on TV!"

The Jackal nodded, "Youse's a fan! That's roiht Sweet Cheeks, tho 'Jackie Oakes' is n'longer… ."

"What the hell is 'GWA'?" Bonnie blurted out.

"Who said…," The Jackal rumbled looking about, finally spying the other girl where she peaked from between the beds, eyes wide, hands covering her mouth as if to keep from saying anything else stupid, a familiar naked mole-rat perched on her shoulder. "Oh I see, that must b'youse sidekick!"

Still smiling sweetly Tara glanced her way, "We, y'know, hang out at times."

The Rockwaller impulse to not be talked about while in the same room automatically caused Bonnie to stand. Without further thought, forgetting all about Rufus on her shoulder, the brunette adopted her usual _Rich Bratz_ pose: one hand on jutting hip and the other pointed at the current o_bjet de dédain,_ object of scorn. _"Sidekick?_ Hah! _As if! _Look Alpo Boy, if anyone has the brains between us, it's me."

That same puzzled canting of head as he looked between them, "But… iffen she's the… then why're youse the one blockin… ."

_What the hell am I doing? _she kicked herself mentally while calling forth more Rockwaller Bluster. _I'm up now. _"Hey! You didn't answer my question. What is 'GWA'?"

Without realizing the tactical wisdom of it, Tara stepped so as to keep both villain and her sometimes-friend in easy sight. "The Global Wrestling Association, how could you not know that?" she supplied.

"_TV wrestling?" _Bonnie wrinkled her nose in disdain, "Gah! Well no wonder! We Rockwallers are far too cultured to follow something so vulgar. Who's stupid enough to watch that drek? Besides, everyone knows it's fake." Rufus was nodding along until he realized what she was saying. He squawked at her, "hyy!"

"Bonnie! It's not fake!" the ditsy blonde protested with a slight frown, "I was watching the time Mr Jackal here, like y'know, went on this rampage to put the smackdown on Steel Toe and Pain King!"

Bonnie frowned, _"Who??"_

The blonde though, was caught up in the excitement, her eyes shining as her arms mimed some wrestling moves, "But then Kim and Ron show up from, like, nowhere and…"

"Which is why I'se goin' t'go over ta theys beds right there and beat theys heads in…," Jackal tried to interject, pointing at the comatose hero and her partner, but was basically being ignored.

"…after a brief tussle they got the upper hand and defeated Mr Jackal here!"

"T! It. Is. _Fake,"_ Bonnie said.

"Well, there's cer-tan-ly en element of sportsm'n-like-ship, shure, but…,"

"Nuh _uh!"_

"Nuh _huh!"_

"Like, so was not!"

"Oh yes. Like, so was!"

"D'youse all mind? Wanting revenge over here?"

Hands on her hips, Tara defended her hero, "Bonnie Rockwaller! Are you trying to say that _Kim_ was party to a faking?"

"I'm not _trying, _Tara Queen, I'm_ saying!"_

"You're just jealous! You've _always_ been jealous of Kim!" arms down at her sides, fists clutched, Tara screamed at the obnoxious brunette.

Whose eyes widened like she had been physically slapped, hands lifting as if to ward off another such blow. The pink rodent seemed equally shocked.

"Oh schnnap…," the still kneeling dog-headed giant muttered.

The girl's mouth worked up and down several times soundlessly before she managed to recover. Her eyes returned to their normal slits, an intent gaze burning back at the normally quiet ex-squad mate. Crossing her arms she challenged, "Well, if it was so real, then just how did _Kim,"_ she spat the name, "manage to defeat him?"

"Simple," answered Tara, back to her perky cheery self as she spun back to the kneeling Dog Man. "She used Rufus to take his magic amulet off…" with a swift motion she reached up, deftly scooping up the golden disk from his chest and flicking the chain over his head, "…and without it he's nothing! See?"

So caught up in the drama was he, so smooth the blonde's move, the Jackal only had time to blink once before the disrupted spell reversed. Arms raised in abject frustration, he roared as magic energies swirled painfully about his form, dissipating as did his bulk and stature. In just a couple heartbeats the imposing form of the Dog God shrank down to that of a small man a full head shorter than either teen.

_Oh, now _this_ I can deal with! _sneering inside and out, Bonnie placed both hands on the bed beside her, swinging herself over and across the comatose Kim Possible as Rufus leapt away.

The little man only had time to get out a "Oh, youse is real good Sidekick, goin' for the distra…," before the feet of both cheerleaders landed solidly. Both of Bonnie's high on his now less massive chest, Tara's right roundhouse only slightly lower at the solar plexus, sending him flying back through the hole he made to crash against a semi-empty food cart.

In a flash of blue and blonde, Tara continued the energy of her kick into a flip to land straddling the guy as he struggled to regain his wits. She looked him in the eyes, "No one hurts Kim Possible while_ I'm_ around."

Standing upright she delivered her heel to his chin in a rapid one-two-three kick, almost as if she was scrapping him off the bottom of her shoe.

Amid cheering from a mixed crowd of patients and medical staff gathered in the hallway, Tara turned to the brunette just coming up behind her, Rufus scrabbling back to her shoulder. "Yeah B!" they high-and-low-fived, both smiling. "Way to do the sidekick thing!"

"Oh you _so don't_ want to go there…," then, "Agh! What is with you, Rat?"

* * *

[A collage of stock footage from several of Kim's adventures] _"For years Kim Possible has saved the world on numerous occasions, asking for nothing more than the occasional favors for rides later on her way to help someone else."_

[A still photo of Kim unconscious in her hospital bed hooked up to monitors, oxygen, and IV drip, Ron almost visible in his own at the edge] _"In a coma since early last week, Middleton's Favorite Daughter lays struck down by a mysterious and unknown cause."_

[Mr and Mrs Doctor Possible in lab coats standing in a hospital corridor, concern and worry on their faces; he with his arm around her as she spoke] _"She went to bed like any normal night, but wouldn't wake up."_

[A group of other doctors of several obvious ethnicities standing in huddled conference] _"Experts from around the world have been working around the clock seeking a diagnosis and treatment for the ailment."_

[A collage of many supervillains ending with stock footage of people scattering in panic from in front of Lorwardian battle machines] "_Everything is being considered from plots of revenge by her foes to an alien infection from her close encounter with them during the invasion just three days before her affliction. No answers seem forthcoming."_

[A huge question mark in front of a silhouette easily recognizable as Kim's] _"Now the question being asked by everyone world wide is: 'With Middleton's Favorite Daughter incapacitated, who shall step forward in her stead?'"_

[Grainy blown-up footage from hospital security cameras: A blonde wearing the uniform of a Middleton High cheerleader facing against the Jackal; at the edge of the screen was the arm of another pointing at him, a naked mole-rat easily identified on the shoulder] _"The answer comes in the form of one of Kim Possible's protégées: _Tara Queen."

[Rapid collage of Tara deftly removing the Amulet; Jackal's reversion in double time; the double attack by the two cheerleaders, the face of the second hidden by the angle; then from another camera angle: Tara delivering the _coup de grâce_ kicks] "_Seen here with an unidentified sidekick protecting her comatose mentor from a vengeful Jackie "The Jackal" Oakes, freshly released after three years in prison."_

[The diminutive former wrestling manager, still in Egyptian-wear, being lead out in handcuffs speaking to the camera before paddy wagon doors closed] _"I was taken by surprise, shure. N'only does she have en _ex-see-lent_ sidekick, but she was all like, y'know, Just So Damn Nice about it all, y'know… en all ar'nd schweet kid, really… ."_

[Still frame of a brightly smiling Tara with fingers in a V-for-victory, a stock picture of Rufus in one corner, a roughly isolated image of the drop-kicking 'unidentified sidekick' in the background, face still obscured by the angle, ] _"Will _Team Tara_ be able to fill the shoes that Kim Possible wore? While time will tell, it is the valued opinion of this esteemed reporter that from her debut she is certainly off to a spectacular… ."_

The TV abruptly clicked off in response to Bonnie slamming her fist against its power button.

"Arrgh! Rockwallers are _not_ sidekicks!" she seethed.

"But Bonnie, you did good as the sidekick!" Tara looked up from the _Teen Seen_ magazine she was flipping through.

The pair was sitting in a room adjacent to the hospital's main Media Conference Room, the so-called 'green room' where individuals wait until called. Despite the name there was very little green in the room aside from the plants, half of which were artificial. Tara was seated with legs crossed in one of the chairs along one blue wall idly going through the stack of old magazines, most were scientific or medical titles which she outright skipped over for the out-of-date entertainment and social themed ones before she struck gold with the only one teen oriented.

Off to one side Rufus was at a multi-compartmented party bowl, the center full of chips, the outer depressions full of a variety of dips. He concentrated on the cheese while ignoring the onion, ranch, and clam dips.

Bonnie had been too worked up to read and had instead opted to surf the channels on the large screen TV looking for any and all references of their encounter barely an hour ago. Channel after channel the bytes were much the same, all the affiliates having subscribed to the local news feed along with widespread Internet saturation.

At first the brunette wanted nothing to do with the mess. That changed as soon as she heard everyone praising them for saving the life of Kim Possible. _Saving Kim! Yes! For once I'll come out ahead of her, _was the immediate thought,_ I can run with this, rack up some _primo_ media coverage._

Only, the entire world knew the name of Tara Queen along with her glowing smile, while she had been relegated to the anonymity of unnamed and faceless sidekick in the background. _If they don't bother to chop the bytes even more, _the brunette was livid. _Hell, they even know the Rat Thing's name better than mine! But I'll set the record straight with this news conference._

To ensure they were going to make the best of impressions, Bonnie had dragged her blonde teammate back to the Rockwaller estate for a quick trip through her enormous walk-in closet, reported by _Teen Seen_ to be third in size only to _London Tipton's_ and that _Hanna-somebody-in-Montana._ With a critical eye Bonnie whipped a nice matching ensemble together to give them a team presence, but in different color schemes to both compliment their looks and individualize them.

Since they were well known as Middleton High cheerleaders, Bonnie decided to run with that as she worked colors to compliment each of them. For herself she went with the same color scheme from her version of the cheer squad uniforms three years ago, originally chosen to highlight her own looks. Thus she picked out a pair of Capri slacks in a muted mustard-yellow and matching top with sweetheart neckline, then knee-high doeskin boots and a jaunty high-collared long-sleeved Bolero jacket with zippers to accept an optional panel with which to close the front, both in Middleton-blue with red accents. She topped it off with a red beret to tie together all the accents and complete the Girl-of-Action look she was going for.

She then selected for Tara a similar appearance, replacing slacks and top with a near-Middleton-blue mini-dress with mock collar, along with the same style doeskin boots and jacket done in mustard. Another beret, twin to her own, tied them both together.

In a last minute inspiration, the brunette dug out two of the utility belts from her supply of KimStyle outfits for them both. She had studied them both in the mirror with a critical eye. _The leader wears the pants, the sidekick the skirt,_ she nodded in satisfaction. _World saving heroes with better fashion sense than Kim's!_

Tara had simply enjoyed the rare opportunity to explore Bonnie's closet and the even rarer gifts of clothing. She cooed happily with the feel of the garments, everything but boots and belt an expensive velour. She loved how it enhanced her hair and complimented her eyes. The new outfit was simply the high point of the day for her, after saving Kim's life.

Matched the waiting room some too.

"No, uh-uh," Bonnie responded, "I'm not going to get stuck branded as the 'loser sidekick', not to you!" As an after thought, "No offense, T."

Tara simply smiled back, "None taken B." After knowing the brunette since middle school, the blonde had long since grown accustomed to her ways. Not that much fazed her anyway. Bonnie shook her head, _That girl rarely ever turns on her Upstairs Lights… ._

"Bonnie? Tara?" came a familiar voice. Bonnie spun about, at first thinking Kim had awoken to steal her hard earned glory but instead found another redhead entering the room. An older, taller version of Kim wearing a white doctor's smock.

"Mrs Possible!" the girl breathed a hidden sigh of relief that her irrational fear was unfounded.

The blonde bounced to her feet, tossing her magazine on the table, "Mrs Dr Possible! How's Kim?"

Even as they greeted her, the woman moved in close to sweep them up into a fierce hug. She was not crying, but from her voice she was close, "Oh! Oh, my Dears! Thank you both so much for saving my little girl!" She gave each a quick peck on the cheek before pulling away to look them over with the eyes of a mother. She readjusted their hair and clothes, mussed from her show of emotion. "Tara, Kimmie is just fine, thank you. Well, not 'fine', still being in a coma, but still alive thanks to you two!"

She stepped back and took them both in, each of her hands holding one of theirs. "That includes you as well Bonnie. Your mother and I see less than eye-to-eye, and I know that through the years you and Kim have been less than best friends, but I'm _ever_ so grateful you were there when she needed you the most.

"Thank you both again." the woman released their hands so that she could stem her tears. "After so many years of her facing danger, to have almost lost her in her sleep is… is…,"

"Stupid?" supplied Bonnie, not certain why she repeated out loud to Kim's mom the same thought she had earlier that afternoon.

"Yes! Exactly! It's so _stupid…,"_ she continued to fight to contain herself. Tara moved in close again, this time wrapping her arms about the woman like a child. Neither said anything as Ann Possible wrapped arms about her in return, appreciating the simple joy of someone's daughter hugging her back, daring to imagine it was her own. They stood that way for long moments, sharing their humanity with each other.

Bonnie watched the entire display with growing unease. _I'm not use to this. I don't know the last time a Rockwaller ever displayed this much honest emotion for or about anyone._ She shuffled her feet.

Ann looked at the brunette, and correctly interpreting the expression in the teal eyes pulled herself together and away from the other teen. She knew Bonnie's mother from her own school days so she was able to suspect exactly what the girl was uneasy about. The woman adjusted her hair with a barely audible sniffle.

"I'm sorry girls," when she had herself better composed. "I'm supposed to prepare you for what to expect once the conference starts. You will be introduced and called to the podium where the reporters will get to ask their questions. You may answer as you want, but you are also free to decline to respond to anything you feel too personal or invasive. Also, and I'm sure this should not be an issue, be sure to watch your language. This is a mixed media, so many are on venues where they have to monitor such things. Plus the hospital has a reputation to consider."

Looking them over again and adjusting how their clothes rode, she sighed, "Think you two can handle this?"

Tara nodded, "No problems Mrs Dr P, Bonnie's like going to totally handle things."

"Really," the redhead cocked a very familiar eyebrow at the brunette. "Well, if anyone can handle the media, I'm sure a Rockwaller can. You go Bon-Bon," she smiled softly, "The conference has already started, the hospital administrator is saying his piece now. Mostly fielding questions about Kim and Ron, but also expressing the staff's appreciation for what you've done."

Bonnie nodded, the limelight and public speaking was something she was groomed for as a Rockwaller. Expected of even.

A member of the administration staff stuck his head in the door, "Time ladies."

"Ready T?" Bonnie asked. _Time to set some shit straight!_

The blonde nodded, "This is your thing Bon, I'm no good at this kind of stuff."

"Damn straight it is," the brunette smiled and led the way. The two teens followed the junior administrator out the door and across the hall to the media conference room. It was a moderately large room with a raised stage at one end where a podium stood with the hospital's seal prominent on the wall behind it. At either end of the stage stood the American and State flags. Chairs set facing the stage were filled to capacity with reporters while those with video cameras were arranged around the perimeter of the walls.

All eyes turned to them when they entered as a bespectacled older gentleman in an expensive suit was finishing up, "And here they are now. Ladies and gentlemen, may I present Ms Tara Queen and her associate!" He applauded along with the rest of the room.

Feeling Tara suddenly freeze and recognizing where it was coming from, the brunette hooked their arms to keep her from bolting. "Come on Tara," she whispered, "We've been before larger crowds than this."

"Not so close," the blonde shook her head, turquoise eyes glazing over, "not focused directly on us. On me."

"It's Okay T. I'm used to this, so follow my lead." the girl sounded earnestly protective. Tara simply nodded as Bonnie, invoking the Rockwaller Composure, dropped her arm to take the other teen's hand and led the way up the center aisle as the ovation continued. Both still and video cameramen moved backwards ahead of them, lights and flashes in their faces.

Stately, like the queen which was her friend's namesake, Bonnie mounted the stage to lead the cowering blonde to the podium. While the applause wound down she took the time to adjust the dozen microphones into optimal positions. Finally the clapping stopped as reporters began to shout words and questions that all melded together.

"Miss Queen!" "Ms Queen, _Teen Se…,"_ "What was it…," "Did Kim choo…,"

Bonnie held up her hands, calling for silence. She remained that way until she got it. Once all the voices stilled, she smiled, leaning forward. "Thank you for the warm welcome…,"

Several variations of "Who are you?" floated forward.

"My name is Bonnie Rockwaller, and I'm Tara Queen's friend," she indicated the girl cowering behind her, peaking out like a child from the safety of her mother's shadow, eyes wide. "As Miss Queen is not accustomed to public speaking or being the sole scrutiny of so many people, she's asked me to field this session for her. Think of me as her manager and spokesperson." _At least until I can get the recognition I deserve instead of her._

Hands rose, voices cried out, like a huge nest of hungry chicks all vying for tidbits from their returning mother. Sweeping her gaze across them for the more prominent and well known media personalities, the brunette finally selected one. "Yes, you there. You have a question?"

A woman stood. "Yes, thank you. Vernita Green, _Channel One News._ Ms Queen, were you scared?" she leaned as if she could see around the first girl better.

At Bonnie's encouraging nod, Tara stepped forward slightly, "Uhm…," she started cautiously, "I dunno. I didn't think about it?" She retreated again.

Bonnie selected another, "You next."

A man. "Les Eismore, _Teen Seen Magazine._ It's said that you are Kim Possible's protégée. How do you compare yourself to her?"

The blonde popped forward again, keeping her eyes on the mics instead of the crowd of faces. "She's like, a redhead, and I'm like, a blonde… ." A chuckle rippled across the assembled people.

Fighting her growing frustration Bonnie glared at them, "Doesn't anyone have a question for me?" There was a pregnant pause until one lone hand rose in the back. "Yes! Finally! Please!"

Another, younger man stood. "Lance Chance, _Middleton High 'All My Matters'._ Can you ask Ms Queen what she had for breakfast?"

_That's it! _"No. No! _No‼ _I mean, a question _about me‼"_

The reporters looked about at each other. A voice from somewhere, "Who're you again?"

"Hello? I was there? _I helped‼"_ Bonnie indicated herself by patting both hands against her chest.

Nearly as one, as if practiced, the crowd before her said, "Ohhh‼ _The Sidekick‼"_

_Try not to lose it…,_ "I'm more than the sidekick. Without me she couldn't find her way out of an open door. I'm, like, the _brains_ of this outfit!"

Now that the attention was no longer directly on her, Tara stepped out more boldly. Not considering that maybe she should be offended by Bonnie's remarks, she nodded, "'S'true, I don't use mine very much."

Another voice from elsewhere in the mass, "So who're you again?"

It was at that moment Rufus, having finished his fill of chips and dip and realizing he had been left behind, caught up with the ones who saved his favorite humans. So intent on keeping her composure was the brunette, she only half-felt and half-ignored the sensation of the rodent scampering up her leg and back.

She barely noticed him on her shoulder, but those before them did. They recognized the naked pink animal instantly.

"Ahhh‼ You're Ron Stoppable!" the united voices declared.

_Wha…?_ "Argh! _No‼ _I'm Bonnie!"

A new voice, "Bonnie Stoppable?"

_That's it‼ Enough is enough, that's all I can stand 'cause I can't stands no more‼ _Bonnie gripped the edges of the podium, leaned forward with eyes closed, and screamed at the top of her voice…,

"_ROCKWALLER‼!"_

It took two minutes for the feedback, echoes, reverbs, and general collected shock to abate. Then as one: "OHHH… ."

* * *

The broadcast came to an abrupt end as the ninety inch plasma screen TV flicked off. The room was lush and well appointed, with a fireplace that had a video screen, complete with a picture of burning logs, instead on a proper pit. Opposite the big screen was an expensive hardwood desk. In the dimmed light a hand lowered the remote, placing it on the desktop gently.

"Very interesting," mused a girlish voice.

* * *

The next morning at the local Middleton _McSpensive,_ an upscale not-so-fast-food restaurant, found Bonnie sitting in her usual booth. None of the other patrons came near her, all giving the volatile brunette a very wide berth. Even nearby tables had been abandoned as she seethed in the aftermath of an even-for-her uncharacteristically explosive tirade.

All about, the booth lay surrounded by confetti that but minutes prior had been a newspaper. Some pieces still fell about her glaring and crossed-arm form like snow, some settling on her head and shoulders.

Ever oblivious to her friend's grumpier moods, Tara slid in opposite, cheery as ever, slapping a fresh newspaper in front of the brunette. "Bon! Did you see? We're on the front page!"

Having already just dispatched her own, the girl need not bother to look to know that the headline read:

_**It's Possible! Middleton Birthplace to World's Newest Heroes**_

_**TARA QUEEN AND BON ROCKABLE**_

* * *

NOTES: Wow! My 2nd KP fic and it's NOT in the WPS universe like I had thought all my fics would be!

This came about as a challenge on the _KP/Haven forum_, and as everyone pitched comments it just grew on me like moss.

The setting is 2 weeks after graduation.

I chose Queen for Tara's last name because while King is popular for her, to me Tara King will ever be the British secret agent and John Steed's partner in _The Avengers._

_Totally Tara_ is to have a lot more lighter moments that my WPS universe. Tara being the unexpected heroine with the heart of gold and head of… _fluff,_ to quote the _Tao of Pooh_… LOL

As for why it seems centered on Bon-Bon more than Tara is because in my mind Bonnie is the suffering straight man to Tara's Dumb Luck Skills, Abbott to her Costello. As the fic progresses maybe it will shift some, hard for me to say right now.

Incidentally this story, and the _Totally Tara_(TT) universe, is slated to have a companion fic which will detail what's going on with Kim and Ron and why their bodies are catatonic. Don't know exactly when that will come as I already have a bit on my plate.

As for schedules, well, WPS is my primary fic and I'm working to keep those updates weekly. For now TT should update bi-monthly, maybe monthly. I hope that once I get the companion fic going it will be it and TT once a month, 2 weeks apart, leaving WPS to roll as it go.


	2. …with a Bang

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Kim Possible, Tara or Bonnie. They are owned by Disney and Mark McCorkle and Bob Schooley. Any original characters shown or mentioned belong to me and can not be used without permission. Okay?

**Totally Tara!**

Chapter Two – _…with a Bang_

Bonnie's eyes fell upon the item on her dresser. With narrowed eyes she took in the sight for well over five minutes. Few people knew this, but Bonnie Rockwaller is a creature of strict routine, and as such always very much aware of her environment.

Especially in her own home and in Her Own Space.

Which of course meant that the moment she had stormed into her room after an aggravating morning at summer school, slamming the door with enough force to rattle all the windows of the estate's second floor, she almost _immediately_ took notice. One simply did not _move,_ _place,_ or otherwise _disturb_ something in her room and expect her to miss it.

Which was probably what the perpetrator was banking on. She approached slowly, taking in its relatively harmless shape and dimensions, but made no move to touch it.

She was far too cynical for that.

It was a box. Well, a Tiny Dancer Music Box to be specific. Maybe only five and a half inches along every side, not counting the four inch pirouetting Princess Ballerina figure on top dressed in black with red tutu. The base itself was jet-black and wrapped neatly with an immaculately tied crimson bow, indicating it a present. There was no note or label that she could see. Certainly unusual colors for a gift, if that was truly what it was.

_A new prank from the Sibs?_ was her first thought. _Or a weak attempt at an apology?_ her second, of which she had doubts. The sisters hadn't done _much_ of anything of the non-verbal variety since that mean-spirited 'joke' they'd pulled when she had gotten her first period, but her brother had learned no such restraint. Her mother was not in the habit of just leaving her gifts, and while her father usually gave her something whenever he returned from his business trips, they were wrapped in nothing more than the store bag. Thanks not only to Junior being fickle about his avowed support of her summer scholastic ordeal but apparently his gender preferences as well, she was begrudgingly single at the moment. So it mostly discounted any guys, although there was always the "creepy stalker" option which would only serve to excite her already miserable week.

Therefore she had no idea who left her the ominous little thing. It was that which disturbed her the most.

Carefully she reached her right hand forward, fingers almost barely brushing against the delicate looking item. Then…

_Tik. Wwweeeeeeeeeeee…_

At that moment Connie, the oldest of the Rockwaller sisters walked up outside Bonnie's room. _Geez,_ _why do I always have to be the one to fetch the little twerp? Isn't this why we _have_ servants?_ she thought as she was about to pound on the door. "Come on Runt, it's time for lun… ."

_BWWOOOOOOHHHMMM‼_

If the younger Rockwaller's earlier door-slamming had rattled the floor's windows, this shattered _all_ of them throughout the mansion.

The force of the explosion picked the older brunette off her feet, losing a shoe in the process, and forcefully throwing her backwards. For the tiniest fraction of a second Connie had a freeze frame view of her sister's ornate oaken door chasing her through the air, flames spreading out from all edges, the adjacent walls cracking and buckling with the barely contained violence and completely devoid of any sound. The woman would have hit the door of the room across the hallway, her room as it happened to be, had it too not been dislodged from its settings.

All three flew against the far wall of the other room, impacting to form an oaken sandwich with brunette filling.

Outside, the third sister, Lonnie was pulling up the long drive in her red Porsche convertible, license plate of _LON ROCKS. _The blonde woman screamed as a sudden horizontal geyser of flame from an upstairs window spewed splintered glass, wood, brick, and mortar nearly to the opposite side of the large grassy circle of the parking rotunda. Jamming on the brakes she jerked the wheel hard to the right, nearly colliding with several of the statuary lining the side of the manicured edges of the drive, barely missing a huge white dog, and almost ending up in one of the decorative fountains.

"What the hell?" she yelled before the realization of what just occurred, and the window in question, sank in. _"Bonnie‼"_ she screamed as the driver-side airbag deployed in her face.

Shoving the loose door in front of her so it fell flat, Connie kicked off the remaining shoe as she stumbled shakily across it, overwhelmed with what had just happened. For all of the energy released in the discharge, it was astonishing how little destruction carried beyond the sturdily built walls of her sister's room. _"Bonnie‼"_ she cried at the top of her lungs even though her world remained deathly silent. _Great, I'm deaf!_

On still shaky legs she was the first to recross the hallway and reach the ruined portal a full minute ahead of any of the household staff. _"Bon… Bon… Bon…!"_ she called out repeatedly, certain it was in a hysterical-edged voice because she could feel her throat growing hoarse but still unable to hear herself. She and Lonnie might have enjoyed torturing the younger brunette as a hobby, but for all that it appeared malicious on the surface, it was done in a dysfunctional family sort of lovingly. Tears tracked down her cheeks, _I never wished the Twerp any _real_ ill!_

Gripping the flame-flashed warm remnants of the doorjamb she peered in and looked about, mouth open in horror, the fireplace burnt-wood smell and heat washing across her face. _How could this have happened? Who could have done it??_

Connie Rockwaller, the self-proclaimed sister 'with the brains', was an acclaimed mentalist. Of the serious study of psychology variety and _not_ the fake show-biz stage magician sort, though she did dabble at times for kicks and getting her way through university. What it meant though was she had a born gift of sharpened skills of observation, mental acuity, and thought processes. In layman terms she perceived, and more importantly _took note of_, things from her five senses that others missed which often perpetuated the rumor that she was psychic.

She put that gift to use now.

The bedroom was gutted by the abrupt conflagration. The wallpaper was flash-charred, some clear spaces in silhouette of lamps and other items that had existed in the initial moment of the blast. Pictures hung askew or fallen to the floor, their glass all cracked or broken. Small tongues of flame still licking here and there along the carpet and among the smoldering debris. The floor, ceiling, and walls were cracked and bowed outward, the window on the outer gone entirely, a huge gapping hole in it's place. The chandelier was history, only a swinging cord with a couple of crystals remained. Most of the antique wooden furniture was little more than firewood and kindling, with the massive bed the notable exception. Made of three inch thick pieces of mahogany, it stood mostly intact with smoke still curling from the burnt bedding.

There was no sign of the younger brunette. _Oh my god, she must have been at the center of it all!_

As Connie felt bodies behind her pressing to get a glimpse of the devastation, a dull throb grew at the back of her head. Recognizing her subconscious, in particular the portion which was preternaturally more observant than the front of her brain and she referred to as _Sub-Connie_, signaling to bring something important to her conscious attention, the woman took a closer look around. With eyes narrowed more than usual, she carefully cataloged every sight, smell, and sensation. Then she realized what it was.

_The bed, there's no gap! _Bonnie always kept it standing away from the wall, maintaining a space of a foot around it on all sides, including from the wall. Even the headboard, where she used to hide from all the scary things of her childhood. Which was usually her older sisters. However now the entire thing was firmly lodged into the wall. _But something else…,_ near the top of the baroque shape of the headboard a small strange shaped clear-space silhouette. Rapidly her mind's eye flashed on every conceivable thing that could cause…, _Was that… the heel tip of a shoe??_

Turning rapidly, the woman shoved past the concerned and terrified faces of the maids and houseboys as she made for the next bedroom over belonging to the youngest of the Rockwallers, their brother Donnie. Normally locked, the explosion had served to knock it ajar enough that all she needed do was put her shoulder to it hard, sending it crashing inward off its pins… .

From long years of suffering the brunt of her sisters' torment, Bonnie had grown very suspicious and jumpy of every little thing in the mansion that appeared out of place. The music box had definitely fit that description, which was why seventy-seven seconds ago, before the _'tik'_ of activation had even completed, she was moving.

Instilled and honed by a lifetime of sibling prank awareness, lengthy considerations of 'what if' scenarios, long hours perfecting a dancer's grace and cheerleader acrobatics, and truth be told an unhealthy degree of Kim-envy, Bonnie galvanized into action without even thinking about it.

With an automatic conservation of motion she abruptly twisted, swatting hard the suddenly ominous device with the hand already next to it, aiming for the opened window across the room thinking it only a smoke or stink bomb.

However, what saved the brunette's life was having made a habit of never taking chances where her twisted siblings were concerned. Continuing her body's spinning momentum, she also dove for the space between the bed's heavy headboard and the wall.

Bonnie had barely made it when all hell broke loose.

The evil music box detonated still a foot shy of the window, vaporizing it and the wall as the majority of its fury vented in that direction. Irregardless, there was more than enough sheer force to flash fry the room and shove the heavy bed _hard._ It in turn drove the girl _almost_ through the wall. As it was constructed of the older and sturdier cement-board instead of the newer drywalling plasterboard it was not an easy trip.

It was with a profound sense of relief and gratitude that the older sister found the younger still alive and dazedly pulling herself the rest of the way free, coughing as the dust being dislodged by her progress continued to drift down, coating her like a powered donut.

Bonnie looked up as she felt her sister's hands finding a grip under her arms and helping to tug her clear, others filing in to help and gawk. She looked up at Connie and saw a collage of expressions on the older woman's face unseen in years. _If ev-ver… ._

Concern. Fear for her. Relief. _Are those tears?_

The woman's mouth was moving, _"??? !!!!!"_ which was when the girl realized she could hear nothing. After a brief but insistent inspection, Connie hugged her fiercely, taking her completely by surprise. The two battered sisters could each feel the other shivering bodily. The younger brunette's mind flashed four days back to the hospital's green room, to uneasily watching the open display of affection and comfort between a mother and a daughter not her own… _Is this what it takes to crumble the Rockwaller Reserve? For me to nearly _die_?_

_Who could've done this? Why? _Bonnie wondered._ Who could hate me this much? Things like this simply don't happen to me except whenever I'm too close to Possib…, _"TARA!" not aware of her true volume she sat upright, shoving Connie back and forcing herself to shaky feet.

All over the media, she and Tara were being touted as the 'Team Possible Replacements', and other variations of the theme. Bonnie was very much aware of how Kim and Ron were 'crazies magnets', always attracting them out of the very woodwork. _Or forcing them through it!_

_If this is someone gunning for the New Heroes on the Block…, _limping, she stumbled a couple of steps before finding Connie propping up one side and helping her, even with puzzlement evident on her face. Nonetheless older brunette helped younger reach their brother's desk where Bonnie snatched up the phone.

As everything in her room was no doubt ruined beyond use, Bonnie had a problem. She never bothered to memorize any phone numbers, relying instead on the built in memories of her many devices. Her cellphone, PDA, and even the caller IDs of the house lines. Without them she would never find Tara's numbers without looking up the Queen household in the book. _No time… no time… no time…,_ but Donnie had a crush on the sweet blonde despite being almost four years her junior. He would have it in his handset's memory, using his classmate Sara as an excuse to remain close to the family… _Yes!_

Putting the handset to her ear as the number dialed the girl frowned, abruptly reminded she was deafened, hopefully only temporarily. "Tara! Bomb‼" she started shouting, not even certain if the line had connected yet. "Bomb! There's a bomb‼ It was a music box for me… Tara, Tara, Tara… bomb… get out of the house, Tara…‼" she repeated the last sentence several times, pulling the phone away and simply yelling at the phone in her hands until Connie spun her physically about to look out the window.

Across town, in the direction of where her blonde friend lived something erupted, hanging in the sky above the rooftops for a few seconds before disappearing again from sight… _Oh no, Please god no!_

All her life Bonnie never really had friends. First her parents would carefully consider what the many parents might really be after in their so-called desires for their kids to be friends, both censoring and limiting any and all access to their children, and then as she grew older, finding out for herself how true it was that the Rockwaller name and money motivated false companions. Like the rest of her family, the girl erected an emotional wall around her with disdain as mortar. It was the base reason why she detested Kim so much. _No one_ could want _nothing_ the way she claimed to, offering friendship and help and asking nothing in return. There was something distinctly phony about it that always gave the brunette pause. Clearly all Kim's friends, with the exception of the Loser, only sought her company for a piece of her world-saving fame.

However all of that cynicism did not prevent Bonnie from capitalizing upon her own name and building a power base of popularity fueled and fed by select sycophantic followers. She just took care on how far she could throw them.

_But Tara… like Possible, she's totally unconcerned with such things. And yet she hangs with me anyway…, _Bonnie thought, one lone tear swelling an eye. _If there's anyone I can dare think a friend, it's her… ._

Turning, Bonnie tried to make for the door, her sister supporting each step and even as her strength returned and footing more assured, Connie never let go. The servants parted as they approached, one with replacement tennis shoes on hand. Making for the stairs she saw Lonnie sprinting up three at a time, worry and concern on her face as well. _Huh, she cares too…?_

_"……! … … ………?"_ the blonde's mouth was moving.

"Tara! We have to get to Tara's!" Bonnie was still shouting, not even able to hear her own voice in order to modulate it properly.

_"… … …… …………!"_ Connie mouthed back. Lonnie nodded and ran back down the stairs, sliding the handrail the last stretch, to run back outside.

By the time the brunettes made it outside the blonde had pulled to the front door in her vintage 2004 Carrera GT, fifth to roll off the assembly line in Liezpig, Germany. It pulsed like she was gunning the engine with only the brake holding it back. As it was only a two seater, Connie helped Bonnie into the passenger seat, which since Lonnie had gone for status by having the European model imported, was on the left-hand side. She slammed the door and patted the girl on the head, _"… … … ………!"_

Lonnie slipped the clutch and roared directly into second gear, kicking a shower of gravel as the spinning back tires dug in and made all the more surreal in the silence Bonnie still suffered. Both sisters were forced hard to the right as the convertible fishtailed, Lonnie wheeling the nose around the rotary, avoiding the larger chunks of masonry debris and the strange dog again, finally shifting directly into fourth as she hit the drive's straightaway. The woman tended to burn through the expensive six-speed transmissions annually, but Bonnie was not going to complain today.

She was, however, going to put on her seatbelt… .

* * *

It was a beautiful day at the Queen household.

Like most families that live in suburbs, they had a modest house that burst the seams with children. While that meant at times personalities clashed and tempers flared, it also meant that they were closer knit that others who might think themselves better off.

Today the Queens were having an outdoor barbecue and pool party along with Mrs Queen's side of the family, the Porters, making for a very full house. It was in celebration for the various graduations up and down the clan's age ladder, delayed by the alien invasion nearly three weeks ago. Of course that meant they only had more to be thankful for, and the Queens and Porters were nothing if not ever thankful for something.

Tara was in her room putting the final touches to her swimsuit, a blue one-piece that brought out her eyes in combination with her golden hair, and checking her look in front of her free-standing full-length mirror. She had just returned from visiting Kim… and Ron… in the hospital where they still lay asleep in their comas, and where she had the most interesting encounter.

"Know what?" she asked of her image… .

Wearing a light blue sundress with a modest midi length hemline and wedges, a large floppy straw hat in her hands, she had arrived late for morning visiting hours. However the staff had made it very clear that such restrictions need never apply to her. As far as they were concerned she and her sidekick had nearly free run of the hospital whenever they desired. For which the blonde was very grateful. She took advantage of her open door pass and visited Kim everyday. She would spend at least an hour by the redhead's side, recounting her day in every tiny detail, ecstatic to have the time alone with her. The nursing staff always made themselves scarce so her time was uninterrupted, only coming in if one or another of the monitoring machines sent some sort of alert, but they would be in and out as swiftly as they could, respecting the new hero's wishes to be alone with her 'mentor'.

However today when she entered the couple's room, which was now on the opposite side of the ward from the one damaged by the Jackal, she found someone already there.

The woman was dressed as a nurse but the blonde knew that was not right because she was consistent about her visits and the regular staff knew to steer clear. Still, part of what gave her away was her hair. Tara was fairly certain that there was some sort of regulation against hair down past the butt, even if it _would_ be a sin to cut such luxuriously and silky looking raven tresses. This person evidentially did not belong, but it was just as clear that she did not wish to be discovered or challenged, so she hung back at the door and waited. She really had not meant to eavesdrop.

"…so not fair. You just came into my life Princess," she was saying softly. "And the hell of it is Cupcake, there's nothing I can see to do to help… no castles to storm, no dragons to slay, no aliens to knock on their asses in order to save you." The woman leaned over and gave Kim a kiss on her forehead, considered a moment, and then another on the teen's lips.

Tara was shocked by that last gesture, but she remained still as a statue, not uttering a sound. Which is why she was surprised when the other, not even bothering to look up said equally as soft, "Why don't you take a picture? It'll last longer."

The blonde teen jumped slightly. She had thought herself soundless in her approach.

"I have excellent hearing," the other said as if reading her mind. She straighted and turned, revealing olive eyes set in a pale green face. "Something Kimmie here's learned the hard way."

Of course Tara recognized her, "You're the Shego girl."

"_Girl?"_ the faux nurse snarked the one word.

Tara corrected, "Sorry, you're the Shego woman."

Shego smirked, "Better. And you're that Tara _girl,"_ she emphasized the last word. "The new hero. You may as well come in so we can do this properly."

The teen stepped in but shook her head. "I'd rather not have to fight you here."

The woman chuckled amusedly, "Full of ourselves, aren't we Pri… Sunshine?"

"I've studied Kim's moves for years," the slip of blondeness said evenly yet lightly as she stepped around to the far side of her friend's bed.

Shego raised her opinion of the girl a notch or two as she stayed carefully out of arm or even leg reach. _Suzy Sunshine here might have a little sumptin' sumptin' going for her…,_ "Yeah, well maybe you did, maybe you didn't," she said out loud, rotating to keep eyes on her. When both were facing each other with Kim's prone form between them she added, "But I agree. I'd rather not fight here either. So what say we call Pumpkin's room neutral ground?"

Tara had been about to ask how could she trust a criminal, but then she saw the soft look the woman gave her friend, and remembering the kiss…, "Y… you _care_ for her?"

Shego smirked, "You might say that. Just as I might say the same for you."

The blonde flushed furiously, "Wh… what would make you say a thing like that?"

The other sneered, then leered, "Please, I've been watching you for days now. I wish even _one_ of the guys who claimed interest in me were as punctual, regular, and dependable as you are."

"You've been stalking me?" Tara's eyes went wide, her hands clasped over her mouth.

"Please, get over yourself," Shego snorted. "You're cute as hell and all, but trust me, not my type. What I've been doing is casing the place. Establishing the routines. And Sunshine, let me tell you there are obsessive-compulsives not as routine as you. Does she know?" a nod indicating Kim.

"I don't know what you mean!" Tara lowered her hands to grip the bed's railing.

Shego leaned closer across the bed. Narrowed olive eyes looked deep into wide turquoise. Finally she pulled back, "You really _don't_ know, do you?"

"Know what?"

Kim's nemesis simply shook her head with a chuckle, "No. No, that's something you'll need come to terms with yourself in your own time." She turned to leave, tossing over her shoulder, "Kimmie's bedside will ever remain neutral ground for you and me. We can talk, maybe even do coffee while we're here. But we're rivals now, in several senses, so don't _ever_ get the idea that we'll be friends." She paused in the doorway and looked back at her fully, "If we ever meet 'on the job' don't be surprised if I enjoy pounding that little fact home to you.

"And remember, I saw the tapes and how you dealt with Jackie… very smooth by the way…, so I have an idea of how fast you are… ." Then she pulled the door closed behind her.

Leaving a very wide-eyed Tara alone, more confused than scared.

"Know what?" Tara asked again, hearing the phone ring but not worried about it. Someone _always_ picked up the phone. "Come to terms with _what_ by myself?" It might have been her imagination, but mirror-Tara seemed to give her a knowing smile in return that seemed to say, _Once you find that out, you'll finally know the same thing that criminal knew after _one_ look at us, but don't expect _me_ to tell you._

"_TARA‼"_ her mother screamed hysterically from downstairs, _"PHONE‼"_

Never hearing that tone in her mother's voice unless it involved one of the kids chasing a ball into oncoming traffic, she swiftly scooped up the handset. Bonnie was shouting, "… music box for me… Tara, Tara, Tara… bomb… get out of the house, Tara…‼ Tara, Tara, Tara… bomb… get out of the house, Tara…‼ Tara," the blonde dropped the phone. Bomb! She heard her mother ordering everyone outside while she tried to think. There was no music box… then it hit her.

The bear! Cara!

When she had gotten back from her visit with Kim her mother, Clara, mentioned a gift had arrived for her, but little Cara had seized it with all the assurance typical of a four year old who knew everything in the world cute and cuddly was meant for her. Taking a look from the kitchen window Tara had seen her happy little sister in the backyard clutching a black teddy bear with a crimson bow about its neck almost as big as her. "Who is holding who?" she and her mother laughed at the sight. Figuring it as yet another present from some guy she probably already turned down, she had decided to let the girl keep it.

The blonde stuck her head out of her second floor bedroom window seeking the youngest Queen. Even though the backyard was filled with Queens and Porters she immediately spotted the black bear and blonde head standing on the end of the pool's lower diving board in direct disregard for the standing order not to.

Not giving any thought to her actions, Tara climbed from her window in a practiced ease that might have disturbed her parents in regard to their imposed curfew had they not been worried about clearing out the back of the yard into the lane which ran the center of the block between the rows of houses. The teen ran swiftly along the sloping half roof to the edge closest to the temporary trampoline set up for the summer.

With the assurance born of her cheerleading skills Tara did not pause before leaping with all her might, positive she would make the ten feet of space that separated it from the house. She tucked into a head for heel flip to instill as much inertia into the maneuver as possible, coming down nearly center. Rebounding she flew for the pool and the little girl excited and laughing at all the running and yelling, unable to understand the dangers even if explained to her.

By now the family had spotted both her and little Cara. Their mother screamed and began to run for the pool as others also pointed and shouted. The older woman only knew her baby was too close to the house and unaware that the danger was in fact clutched to the girl's chest.

Again the former cheerleader put a spin into her flight, only this time a lateral twist to control her distance and bring her down right behind the girl. Coming down on the springboard, she bent spread legs at the knees so as the board dipped she could curve her arms around the sides of her sister, first slapping the large stuffed toy from Cara's hands before grabbing her and launching hard with the rebound.

The front of Tara's brain had no idea what she was doing. Only that she needed to _do._

Fortunately either the back of her mind did, or as everyone who knew the blonde was certain, the very universe itself watched out for her. The girls were going to easily make the higher board above them. Only…

Only the black bear did not fall directly into the pool as the blonde's subconscious had anticipated. Instead it had hit the board's edge, rebounded as well, and was subsequently flying directly next to them.

_Tik. Wwweeeeeeeeeeee…_

The startled Cara began to cry in her arms as Tara tucked them into a forward roll, her left leg extended, slamming down on the evil toy and sending it back to the water below them as they continued higher.

_BWWFFFOOOOOOWWWSSSHHHMMM‼ _

Pool water geysered some eighty feet in the air.

The force of the explosion shattered the windows of the nearest houses, slamming or ripping off unsecured shutters, and knocking down a portion of the wooden fence next to the pool itself. Leaves and any ripened fruit blew off the various trees. The trampoline, patio furniture, and any other relatively loose lawn decor was sent flipping away. The family and neighbors were blown off their feet while Mrs Queen, the closest, was thrown screaming over the back fence, her landing causing a huge silvery-white dog to shuffle away.

Pool water rained back down, soaking everything within fifty feet in all directions which included not only their yard and house, but all of their closest neighbors', flooding and putting out all their barbecues and eliciting cries of surprise and outrage depending on the personalities suddenly doused. Car alarms and cursing floated about the neighborhood.

The Queen and Porter families were all in shock. They recovered slowly, some moving like zombies, others more focused. Especially Clara Queen. The only thing she was focused on was…

"_CARA‼"_ she cried out, haunted with the last sight she had of her babies, still suspended in midair above the geysering pool, she ran back into the yard and directly to poolside. "Tara‼" In quick order the call was picked up by every member of Clans Queen and Porter and for five minutes they searched all about for the pair. Even the big strange dog seemed to want to help, insinuating itself among them but being shooed away absently by the family with assurances that there was no food for the begging.

Sirens of several emergency services grew closer as with a hard screeching of brakes, the Rockwallers pulled up at the front curb, the front tire up on the grass. Seven Middleton Police cars, three actually having already been in pursuit of the speeding Lonnie, roared up behind and around them as Bonnie jumped out. She had spent the wild ride giving her shaky legs a hard massage to ease out the kinks in the muscles, but now had only one thing on her mind as she dashed into the backyard. "Tara…!" she skidded to a halt, taking in the devastation, soggier but not as destructive as what had hit her. She too added her voice and efforts to the searchers, a growing dread filling her stomach.

Finally a piercing screeching scream split the air.

"Cara!" Mrs Queen looked around, as did the rest until Sara pointed upwards, "Mommy, look!"

Up on the pool's high-board, fifteen feet above them, the terrified little girl was crying, eyes closed, Tara's arm hanging limply over the side. She started to crawl.

"Baby! No! Don't move! Oh please baby, stay still!" Clara was herself in a panic.

As typical for a child, the frightened girl moved blindly for her mother's voice. Right off the edge above the lower diving board.

"No‼!" screamed the mother.

Bonnie dashed across the waterlogged lawn, and jumping from the corner of the pool, rolled to hit the springboard on her back just seconds before Cara. The impact of the smaller body knocking the brunette's breath from her lungs did not prevent Bonnie from wrapping tightly about the four year old as both girls flipped off and over into the significantly lower water level underneath. Bonnie had enough presence of mind to clamp a hand across the tyke's mouth and nose just before impact.

They hit the water even as Mr Queen and the other older males were springing down into the one and a half feet of water remaining in the pool bottom. With copious splashing, they made it to the girls' side. Cara's dad swept up his wailing daughter into a bear hug while his sons and nephews tended to the stunned teen, pulling her sputtering face above water and then helping her to her feet.

Meanwhile Mr Porter was clambering up to the high board where he found his niece just rousing back to consciousness. The blonde had barely made even with the upper springboard at the moment the contents of the pool detonated, flinging them skyward. Fighting to keep her sister sheltered with her own slim frame, Tara managed to adjust their flight so that they came down by the board. Except instead of being able to rotate her feet back under her, it was her shoulders that took the brunt of the landing, knocking her cold.

She groaned, popping open one eye, "The baby… out of danger?"

Frank Porter nodded with a smile, "She's safe, thanks to you and your sidekick." He pointed down to where her father had just handed up the littlest blonde to their mother, both crying.

"Bonnie's… here?" both eyes now open.

"She arrived a little early for the whole 'in the nick of time' thing, but yeah, she's here." He helped her to her feet. In short order she was down, Bonnie was up, Lonnie was in, the large white stray dog finally shooed out the yard, and everyone moved into the house. As they related their stories for the police, Cousin Viv handed out fresh dry towels, the younger kids having to share them. Fortunately it had been a pool party, so most were in bathing suits and already prepared to get wet.

"So I figure this was someone gunning to get the new heroes," Bonnie summed up, her hearing partially returned enough she could hear raised voices over the ringing. "You know, the 'replacements for Team Possible'," she air-quoted derisively.

Tara was frowning, "That's terrible! Our fams could have been killed or serious hurt!" She looked at where her mother was refusing to let Cara go, the girl finally asleep from the ordeal. "Bonnie, what can we do? If we stay at home, they'll always be in jeopardy."

"This sort of thing ever happen to the Possibles?" inquired Lonnie, looking ever glamorous even propped on the arm of the sofa like she was.

Both teens shook their heads. "I don't know much about what happened at their home other than being destroyed by the aliens and some damage last year by them Diablos things," Bonnie provided. "But at times it did spill over into school and other class related things."

"Remember when they had to rebuild Bueno Nacho?" Tara added.

"The ski trip," Bonnie nodded.

"Camp Wannaweep…," Tara slowed as she saw her parents share worried glances. "Bon, we need to find someplace to live. Away from home."

"Daddy gives me a generous allowance," the brunette snorted, "but _not_ nearly enough for monthly rent _and_ living expenses."

"Actually," Tara's Cousin Viv lifted a finger brightly, "I think I have a solution that will serve everyone's interests… ."

* * *

In the dimly lit, lush and well appointed room, the ninety inch plasma screen had been split to display both views fed from the remote cameras mounted on the two separate dog collars. The watcher had seen everything that occurred up to the point the one was chased from the Queen's yard.

However enough had been seen. Clicking off the screen, a command was entered that sent the 'come home' signal buzzing into the trained animals' necks via their collars.

"Damn."

* * *

**Notes**: First, I'll leave my writing progress and posting updates on my profile, just under the "Now Serving" section. I'll especially leave a note if I'll be running late for a Friday posting.

The first few paragraphs were written as a challenge by KP Slash Haven's _Zearth_, who's aka _Trackula_ on FF(dot)Net, and _Festum_ on Deviant Art, and used here virtually intact with his permission. It can be found as part of the thread entitled "The Box", and while a challenge of its own and not related to the "Team Tara" challenge, I nonetheless found it the perfect attack on Bonnie with which to start off this chapter. There are minor edits to it, including making the "gift" a Tiny Dancer Music Box. Thanks Ze-Tra-Fest‼

BTW, I have other stories as well, including the adventure that Kim and Ron are having while their bodies repose catatonic. Check them out! Come for the Tara, stay for the Kims.

Leave Reviews for all. Please. No, I mean it, please…


	3. Crazy Cat Ladies

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Kim Possible, Tara or Bonnie. They are owned by Disney and Mark McCorkle and Bob Schooley. Any original characters shown or mentioned belong to me and can not be used without permission. Okay?

**Totally Tara!**

Chapter Three – _Crazy Cat Ladies_

After having to circle around a couple of blocks they finally were pulling off West 81st Street into the parking garage of the American Museum of Natural History. While this part of Manhattan had many two-way streets, the sheer volume of traffic made it easier to just go the longer way around than to attempt any U- or K-turns. Besides, SADIE was driving herself and seemed to know the best ways to navigate the mean streets of New York City.

Bonnie had been in a slight mental fog since the day after the bombings when she had found out that Tara's Cousin Viv was in fact Vivian Frances Porter, a renowned doctor of cybernetics with the Middleton Space Center's Propulsion Labs.

"Wait, your cousin has the looks of an international supermodel and is an _award-winning_ roboticist?" Bonnie had said, hands on hips as they stood on the tip of the Middleton Bay Harbor Peninsula outside 'Cousin Viv's solution'. "How does _that_ work?"

On her shoulder Rufus stood mimicking her stance. Tara had brought the rodent back that morning from her daily visit with Kim and he readily adopted the brunette despite her protests.

Tara simply shrugged, "Dunno. I guess they run on batteries or something."

Rolling her eyes, Bonnie simply turned and followed the older blonde up the low ramp into the experimental smart house that was her current project. _Kim never had any ol' smart house!_ It was a sleek saucer-shaped structure that looked like something that might get lost in space. While only one level was visible from the outside, Vivian informed them that there were two more levels below not including the powerplant, and was fully automated.

As was the 'Smart Cart' that came with. Originally looking like, as Bonnie put it, "A frumpy open-top SUV," by the time they emerged from their tour of the inside it had taken on a sleek new default configuration of a much sportier vehicle in a vividly rich tone of blue called…

"_Candy Apple Blue__‼__" _squealed Tara excitedly as she hopped all around the car clapping her hands. "I can't believe it! A 1981 Chevy Camaro Z-28 with off-the-windshield air induction, T-tops, a low spoiler-wing instead of the usual up-swept edge, and a custom seven-speed transmission!" Bonnie's mouth had been hanging open as her normally vacuous friend came alive, giddy with glee. "Just like I've always wanted! What kind of engine is it packing?" the slip of blondeness tried to open the hood.

"Back away and I shall tell you," said a warm female voice.

"Who said that?" Both teens looked about only to finally turn back as a smiling Vivian pointed at the car.

"I did. I am SADIE, Systematic Automotive Driving Intelligence, Enhanced. Nice to meet you," rows of brilliant blue LED lights behind the grill flashed from the centerline outward like a stereo equalizer as the voice sounded. "To answer your question Ms Queen, I am equipped with a five-fifty horsepower solar hybrid engine, a sports-tuned suspension, xenon headlamps with infrared night-vision for night riding, enhanced nano-metallic camouflage paint, self-regenerating damage repair, high-speed Internet, turbo… ."

"That's enough for now SADIE, thank you," the woman stepped up alongside them as the vehicle fell silent. "Well Cuz?"

As Bonnie began a slow walk around the car, Tara spun on her heel and hugged her relative, "I love it! How'd you know what kind of car I like?"

"Are you kidding? All you ever talk about are '81 Z-28's… ."

"What the hell…," Bonnie blurted loudly, she and the mole-rat pointing at the vehicle like it just bit her, "…is _this?"_ The two blondes moved to her side where all could see emblazoned on the door a logo of two stylized and stacked T's with an exclamation point…

_**Ŧ! **_

Then the lettering:

**_Team TARA!_**

Then in letters underneath sized to fit the line above:

_Tactical Assistance & Recovery Agency_

Then in even smaller letters under that:

_a subsidiary of **Rockwaller Inc.**_

Vivian was surprised, "I thought you knew. Your father's company is sponsoring the team and footing all your expenses beyond the smart house and related vehicles."

The brunette's only response was to sharply turn and walk a few steps away, flipping open her cellphone. In a few moments her side could be heard faintly as she paced back and forth, gesturing pointedly. "Daddy! I just sa… 'Team _TARA'?_ How _could_ you? But I'm your _daughter!_ Why not _mee?_ Yes I remember the conference, I was there! I _know_ I yelled…, yes…, yes I saw the headlines..., _of course_ she's popular! _No one's even seen my face!_ No, I'm not raising my voice to y…, I _know_ blondes are more popu…, because _you won't let me_ dy…,

"I have to what? _Sidekick‼ Me??_

"But Daddy…, But Daddy…, But Daddy…, But Da…," her head slumped and she sighed in a low dejected voice. "…Yes Daddy…, Yes Daddy…, Yes Daddy…, Of course Daddy…, Me. I'm your Little Trooper…, Yes …,

"…I love you too Da… ." After a moment's silence she slowly and with deliberation closed the phone. Then with both fists clenched she threw her head back to unleash her frustrations to the heavens with a primal…

_"Aaaarrrrgggghhhh‼"_

The cousins suddenly turned back to each other and pointedly resumed the conversation they had placed on hold. "Are you kidding?" Vivian repeated. "All you ever talk about are '81 Z-28's."

"I love it!" the younger blonde enthused with clasped hands.

By that time the brunette had re-marshaled the Rockwaller Composure and, acting as if no one could possibly have heard her end of the conversation, walked back with her usual smirk in place. As she did so she took in the car and the smart house beyond that was to be home for her and Tara for the foreseeable future. She sighed.

_At least it's not, like, a five-story T-shaped tower or something equally gaudy… ._

That had been three days ago. Time enough for Bonnie to deal with her lot in life, if not fully accept it. As much as she now embraced the concept of Tara perhaps being her only true friend in the world, she was still angling to get her own due recognition. _I'm better than Kim and Tara combined and I'll be damned if I get pigeonholed as the 'loser sidekick' forever!_

"As per our instructions, I called ahead to inform them of our arrival," SADIE said, lightening the windows as they pulled into the parking structure, then as previously instructed down the ramp to the lower level to finally park near an armored car backed up to the bank of elevators that was the sole other access to the level other than a door marked both 'Emergency Fire Exit' and 'Authorized Personnel Only'. It was being loaded with crates as armed men stood watch.

"Thank you Sadie!" sitting in the driver's seat, Tara smiled.

"You are quite welcome Ms Queen," The warm voice replied.

Bonnie swallowed down a frown. While it was a tad annoying how much the blonde was treating all this like it was Christmas in July, she admitted there was a certain wow-factor to being called half-way across the country for something so totally Kim-like. She had to concede that until the first few times her former classmate's weirdness had insinuated itself into her life she had never realized exactly how _boring_ it had been. As she begrudgingly admitted to the redhead last year when they had been literally glued to the hip for three days, 'it was almost like fun'.

Oh sure, that time a few weeks back on the old-time mast-ship had been pure hell on her tortured stomach, causing her to spend half of the adventure hanging over the railing, but _adventure_ it had been. The looks on the family's faces across their large and impersonal dining table when she related the tale as if it was just another day of business-as-usual had been priceless. _All they'd done that week were final exams and endless auditions for commercials. Of course, I_ did _pad my part in things some… and left out all the barfing. Still… ._ Even little Donnie's eyes glowed with a never before seen look of respect and admiration.

_Yeah, I can get used to this…_

_…if not the 'sidekick' part… ._

SADIE put herself into park and hibernation mode as Rufus scrambled from the cupholder he appropriated as a seat to unhook Bonnie's restraints before scrambling to his usual shoulder perch. _At least the insufferable little rat tries to pull his weight._ They got out, adjusting their berets and looking extra sharp in the snazzy new mission outfits. Her father had sprung for slick Kevlar-lined versions of the look she had put together for them, the only notable differences being the animal stripe patterns on the jackets, boots, and new gloves, along with the liberal addition of the _**Ŧ!**_ logo. However there were also several unseen built-in pluses to befit their new vocation. _Now if Daddy would only get me out of summer school, things might be all around coolness._

An elderly darker skinned bespectacled man in a white smock appeared from behind the truck. He stepped up to greet them. "Team Tara! Thank goodness you're here!"

Bonnie stepped forward, extending her hand. Like at the press conference, Tara was comfortable with her doing most of the speaking. "Dr Loligest. Bonnie Rockwaller and Tara Queen," she indicated the other with an incline of her head. "We came as soon as we could. How can we be of service?"

Taking her hand, his eyes spent half their time on the blonde as she walked around the rear of the car. "Ms Rockwaller, call me Archie, please," he pumped her hand. "You're the sidekick, yes?"

Bonnie growled inwardly, _Rein it in Rockwaller. Mustn't lose it with the first 'paying' client…,_ while Tara smiled brightly, "Hi Archie! How can the Agency for Tactlessly Recorded Assistants he'p'ya?"

"ATRA?" Bonnie slapped a hand to her face, naked rodent aping her, "For the umpteenth time T, it's _Tactical Assistance and Recovery Agency…_ T - A - R - A. It spells _your_ name! How the hell can you keep forgetting _your own name?"_

"Ohhh, yeahhh," the girl blinked, then turned back to the scientist. "So what'cha need Dr Archie?"

The man chuckled. He once had opportunity to meet Team Possible, and while it was true these girls were not them, the news channels had been all abuzz with their recent exploits, first against the Jackal and then surviving the attempts on their lives. That someone felt it necessary to try and kill them preemptively spoke of how dangerous the pair had to be.

On top of which, they had been trained by Kim Possible. Certainly they had the same dynamics as the original team; one with a driven personality and the other somewhat more… _free spirited,_ even if their roles were reversed. However the presence of the famous naked mole-rat provided a welcome sense of continuity to their predecessors.

"We're in the process of moving the _Gods of Ancient Egypt_ exhibit pieces back to the Jeffersonian in D.C., and the insurance carriers insisted on an independent security firm escort. So we called you," the man explained.

"Oooohh," Tara pursed her lips, "Shiny."

The brunette cut her eyes back to the scientist, "Expensive pieces are they?"

Dr Loligest adjusted his glasses in an unusual manor. With a salute-like gesture he shoved the frames higher up on his nose. "Actually most of them are little more than pieces of stone tablets, idols, and assorted trinkets of very little intrinsic value, though there are several pieces of gold items and gemstones." He reached into one of his coat pockets to retrieve a three-fold brochure to offer them, "However the centerpiece statue of the exhibit is priceless not only in historical value, but monetary as well. Especially on the black market."

Taking the paper absently, the mousy-haired teen asked, "And which is that?"

"Wepwawet."

"Who??" Bonnie frowned.

"Wepwawet," Tara spoke absently while watching the loading process. "He's a lesser known Egyptian god of war. Originally depicted as a wolf, his similarity to a jackal placed him in association with Anubis and thus…," she petered off when she saw the other two looking her way, her companion's mouth agape. Even their new mascot seemed shocked. She gave them a wide-eyed questioning expression, _"Hmmmb?"_

"That's absolutely correct Ms Queen," the man smiled, suddenly seeing that perhaps the girl was not the ditz she put on to be, especially as the team leader. "Quite impressive."

"Just how the hell do you know all that?"

"Payed attention in class," the girl shrugged.

"T…," the brunette exclaimed, "you _slept_ through half the classes!"

"Doesn't mean I wasn't paying attention B."

The brunette shook her head to conceal her amazement before turning back to the man, "Exactly how important is this 'Wept'n'wet' character?"

"Wepwawet," Dr Archie Loligest automatically corrected, salute-adjusting his glasses. "Extremely important. As very little was known of him up until the turn of the century, the recent find of a temple devoted nearly exclusively to him tells that perhaps there was more to him than anyone surmised."

"So you just want us to ride shotgun? Make sure nothing happens to the shipment?"

Adjusting his glasses with another 'salute' motion, the older man said, "Precisely. You may pace the truck in any fashion you see fit, so long as you are in a position to provide help should the need arise."

"Are you expecting trouble?" Bonnie asked.

Tara answered, again absently as she was back to intently watching the loaders at work, "There's been at least three attempts, successful or otherwise, to get at the exhibit during its tour."

"Four times to be exact, Ms Queen," supplied Archie.

The mousy-haired teen slapped the top of the car, "Alright T! How'd you know _that?"_

Without turning to them, the girl responded distractedly, "Standard practice for insurance underwriters of valuables and rarefied antiquities. Stepped up security means the attempts got very close. Calling in outside contractors means they think there might be an inside ma… _hmmmb?"_ she had finally spotted her partner's intense and questioning glare. "Oh! _Banacek_ re-runs. Plus my dad's in insurance."

"A _door-to-door_ insurance salesman!"

"There's no such thing as 'door-to-door' these days silly," Tara chuckled, mostly to herself. "Telemarketers first set up appointments for in-home visits."

"It's still only _Life_ insurance."

A shrug, "Insurance's insurance, B. All that really changes are the values."

The Rockwaller girl looked to the ceiling as if imploring the heavens. "Oh. Ma. _Gawd._ Why? Why me?"

"Lucky?" offered the blonde with a sweet smile. She knew that her friend was always about the drama and meant little of what she actually said.

Once she got that out of her system, the serious minded teen addressed their client, "Okay, so we ride shotgun for what, a four hour trip? No problem."

"More like five and a half hours," corrected Dr Loligest, "There are scheduled stops for fuel, bathroom, and food breaks."

"Those'll be the best opportunities for any potential engagements," Tara added.

_"Banacek_ again?"

"Of course not silly!" the girl giggled. "The _Ayy-Team!"_

"You, are hopeless!" The brunette shook her head before readdressing the doctor, "Still, she has a point. Any and all stops will leave us wide open."

"Which is why the route will not be pre-planned," the scientist saluted his glasses yet again. It seemed more nervous habit than actual need. _"You_ get to choose the way you'll go as well as the times and places for the stops." He tossed Tara a cellphone which she snagged effortlessly.

"Courtesy of InsuriCo. It's locked to only make and receive calls from it's mate on the truck, as is the push-to-talk intercom." he informed. "And the GPS feature is blocked. No one else will be able to listen in or otherwise track you."

The blonde smiled, "Shiny." She moved toward the truck, "Let's meet our temporary co-workers."

The other two followed, Bonnie kicking herself. Being the less outgoing of the duo, it would never have occurred to her to bother with introductions. She hardly deigned to acknowledge the existence of individuals her mind designated as _underlings,_ much less dignified them by talking to them beyond necessity. While the entire Rockwaller family, with the painful exception of her mom, shared this mindset, the youngest daughter had nonetheless observed countless times how her father expertly feigned such interest in the little people in business. So much so that all thought very highly of him. _If only they heard what he thought of them in private. Maybe that's the reason Daddy's sponsoring T in charge. He feels I'm lacking in that regard. Must work on it more, prove him wrong… ._

There were four guards in the armored squad. Two were thick built like her old boyfriend Brick, the third thinner and wimpier, while the last was a curvy towheaded woman. All wore pistols on their belts, but only the weedy guy was not sporting one of the impressive looking rifles. _Driver,_ was her immediate impression.

Tara had already introduced herself to them by the time Bonnie caught up and was enthusing over the weapons, "…are what, _M-16-4B's_ with under-mounted grenade launchers?" Recognizing Bonnie's stare she offered, _"Über Weapons,_ on the _Military Channel."_

"Water-shot actually," supplied the woman, "equally effective on people without collateral property damage beyond perhaps broken windows and maybe some pottery."

"Why in the world would you be watching the _Military Channel?"_ the brunette asked in a low voice.

"Sometimes it's just on while I'd be studying." Tara returned in the same level.

"Studying?" snarked the girl. "You mean 'fallen asleep on the couch'?"

Shrug, "Po-tay-toe, ta-mah-toe… ." She pointed to the guards and in turn introduced the driver, woman, and the football twins, "This is Jester, Snow, and the Tweedles. Guys, Bonnie Rockwaller."

Crossing arms, the brunette eyed the thickset men, "'Tweedles'?"

"Dum and Dummer," they nodded back with the perverse pride that only jocks have.

"So which way shall we go when we pull out?" inquired Jester, the driver.

"Uhm…," the blonde started but Bonnie paused her with a hand on her arm.

"We'll let you know once we're in the vehicles and rolling," she indicated the crew just finishing up loading the crates with her chin. "When we're secure."

"Right," all including her partner acknowledged as the Tweedles moved to climb into the back, pulling the doors closed behind them. Locks could be heard clicking in place. As the other two mounted the front cabin the girls headed for the Camaro while Dr Loligest herded the workers back into the freight elevator.

"Good luck," he waved, then a final salute adjustment of his glasses.

Bonnie returned the gesture with a reassuring, "Don't worry Doctor, we'll make sure nothing happens to ol' Weepy'wet."

"Wepwawet," Tara corrected easily across the top of the car.

_"Like it matters!"_ the mousy-haired girl shot back in irritation as she opened the door. "It's not like we're inviting him to dinner!"

Tara waggled her fingers at the dark-skinned man along with her now-signature smile before slipping into the car, this time the passenger seat. "Eggs and Bac-ey," she said brightly to the glass hemisphere mounted on the middle of the console.

"Wakey wakey," SADIE's warm tone responded as she exited hibernation mode, starting the engine. "Do we have our marching orders?"

Behind the wheel, Bonnie said, "Yes Sadie. Please display the best way from here to the Jeffersonian Institute in Washington, D.C."

Tara supplied as the inside center surface of the windshield displayed a series of maps with roadways highlighted, "We're to escort that armored car as well as provide them with the route and stops for gas and food. There's a chance of robbery attempts."

"So constantly update with the best possible alternate routes as we go," Bonnie added.

"Taking into account roads that allow for a vehicle of that size and type?" queried the AI.

"Please and thank you!" the team leader responded, causing her companion to wince a bit at the Kim-phrase.

While SADIE backed them out and began following the heavy van up the ramps to the upper level and exit, Bonnie reviewed the map. "What ways do we have?"

"The are three main vehicular routes out of Manhattan in the basic direction we wish to go," the car's voice spoke warmly. "The George Washington Bridge and the Holland and Lincoln tunnels. The tunnels offer the directest routes but are tactically inadvisable. The bridge is wide open but lays in the opposite direction and thus lengthens the drive. There are other access routes out of the city, but they lead farther away and into other parts of New York."

"Do we have to choose which tunnel at this point?" asked Tara.

"Not yet. Both lay to the south."

"What are you thinking T?" the brunette inquired. "Sadie says that the tunnels are a tactically bad choice."

"Exactly," the girl returned. "Goose and Gander, B."

The Rockwaller girl looked into her partner's wide expressive eyes. _She does watch a ton of TV, and she's sounded good so far…,_ "T, tell them to turn south onto Columbus, then west onto 79th," she wondered how far ahead to detail the route, but shrugged, "then south on the Henry Hudson." _From the looks of the map, that much would be anticipated anyway and we'd best stay off the crowded avenues. Now which tunnel?_

As the blonde relayed the instructions on the dedicated cellphone, Bonnie gripped the wheel, "Self-drive please Sadie." She felt the steering column engage and took over as they exited the garage onto the museum's driveway. The AI darkened the glass as the sunlight hit them. She thought about the job ahead of them and the gravity of it all. _Wow… this' actually pretty cool. No wonder Kim was so hooked on the whole adventure and missions thing. Maybe if I had treated her better I could have gotten in on more of this sooner._

As the two vehicles proceeded along the crowded streets with buildings taller than almost anything in Middleton hemming them in on all sides, both teens kept watchful eyes out for potential ambush. For the time of day once they hit the Henry Hudson Parkway they made real good time. Thanks to SADIE's ability to tap into a real-time version of _Goggle Earth,_ they knew not to bother with the Lincoln Tunnel as there was a severe accident clogging the horseshoe-shaped roadway on the Jersey side. Bonnie wondered briefly if it could have been an effort to force them into using the other tunnel, but talked herself down from paranoia. _Easy Rockwaller, or you'll drive yourself crazy before we even get five miles. And we have over two hundred and sixty to go._

As Tara predicted, the Holland Tunnel was uneventful and soon enough, still following the armored van, they were roaring down the New Jersey Turnpike past… .

"Oh. Ma. Fuckin'. _Gawd‼"_ the brunette wrinkled her nose. "What the hell's that _smell??"_ Tara was shaking her head, both hands clasped across her nose and mouth, eyes wide and almost watering, her legs crossed and up on the seat as if she wanted to wrap them about her face as well.

"There are several refineries and trash reclamation centers on either side of us," informed the AI.

"Ib smelfs lack seemffind deyd," Tara commented through her hands.

"Can't you do something about it?" Their Coloradan noses were not used to such heavy industrialization. They had already noticed the difference of air quality in New York City, but this was something else.

"I can hermetically seal then flush the interior cabin," SADIE offered.

"Holy Fuck, yes!" and within a few minutes cool fresh air was blowing in their faces, whisking away the foul odors. "Wow, how can anybody _human_ live with that?"

The blonde had her face directly in front of the blower vent and was too busy breathing deeply to clear her lungs and nasal passages to respond beyond shaking her head.

Ten minutes later they were passing the exit for the Garden State Parkway when just beyond it was an Authorized Vehicles Only overpass used primarily by the State Police for crossing from one side of the roadway to the other. As the truck approached it four figures dropped on bungy-like lines onto the vehicle's top.

"Ladies…," started the computer.

"We see them Sadie!" Bonnie started to accelerate. "Time to make the donuts, T!"

"Yeah!"

"Not them Ms Rockwaller, Ms Queen," the voice interrupted. "The runner fast approaching from behind and gaining on us on foot."

"Wha…?" … "Huh?" the pair overlapped their shouts of surprise even as the windshield display repeated what Bonnie was seeing in the rear mirrors. _What the fuck? We're going seventy miles an hour!_

A girl in what appeared to be a reverse-colored cheetah-spotted body-glove was indeed running between the cars. In short order she was pacing alongside them easily, seemingly not breathing hard. Her face had olivine skin a few shades darker than Bonnie's own, and she had rich shoulder length black hair and what had seemed like a body covering leotard was in fact a short fur that blended well with a similarly spotted bikini. Almost as surprising as her running at highway speeds was the tail and cat-like ears streamlined flat back against the top of her hair.

Looking over at the startled occupants of the blue car, she smiled and waved easily. Putting her head down a bit more she pulled ahead just before tossing something against their windshield.

_Bwffwwoohhm‼_

Flames erupted across the front of the car, clinging to it with a tenacity that bespoke a gel-based accelerant. Both girls screamed, Bonnie's reaction jerking the wheel hard to the left but she felt it disengage as SADIE took over, keeping them steady. The interior Heads Up Display showed what was going on ahead of them. "There are five assailants, all female. Four on the armored car and the one on foot. However she seems about to join them."

"Sadie!" Bonnie yelled. "We're on fire!"

"No need to be concerned Ms Rockwaller," the warm voice held no true emotion. "This is nothing my nano-infused metallic coating cannot withstand. However, as long as we are traveling at this rate of speed the air will continue to feed the fire for several more minutes before it will burn itself out, which is probably what the assailants intended. Furthermore, so long as I am on fire I cannot risk exposing unprotected parts of myself by transforming."

Tara looked up at the glass T-top panel above her in frustration, watching the flames lick across half of it. "And as long as we're on fire we can't get out there!"

"Not exactly true," the AI countered as it slammed the Camaro into an extremely controlled skid that amid the screeching of rubber on pavement spun them about nose for tail, while shifting into high-speed reverse and barely losing any ground. The wind's slipstream blew the flames away from the tops SADIE then proceeded to open.

"Spankin'!" the blonde was up and out without further thought. The polymer coating on the gloves and boots provided firm footing as she moved to the now leading edge of the trunk, the wind whipping her long blonde tresses. "Pull up!"

As SADIE complied, speeding up, Bonnie began to climb out as well. _What the hell are you doing Rockwaller? Following Tara??_

With the precision of a computer, the car 'backed' forward steadily to the van's rear, but not without drawing attention to them from the daring thieves. While the runner reached for the rear doors, her exact twin somersaulted off the top directly at them in a drop kick.

_"T‼"_ Bonnie screamed above the roar of the rushing wind. She was standing on the seat, only half out of the car and in no position to help her friend. Fortunately the blonde saw the attack and hunkered down, allowing the attack to pass over her head. The inverted cheetah-skinned girl landed with the sure-footedness of the animal she half resembled. Inches in front of the scowling brunette. "Hey! No hitchhikers!"

"I need to get onto the truck!" Tara yelled.

SADIE's voice spoke up from hidden speakers near where she knelt. "Prepare for a boost. I believe the proper phrase is, _'ally oop'."_

The new hero only had a moment's notice to prepare before the trunk lid popped up several inches like a springboard, launching her over the first dark cheetah's head to land lightly on the armored car's roof. She found herself facing another catgirl, only this one appeared much younger, like about thirteen years old. She had lighter skin which blended into a regular yellow cheetah's coat and long bushy blonde curls a richer golden tone than Tara's own, out of which also stood attentive cat-ears. They stared at each other in surprise for long seconds.

_"Inconceivable!"_ the girl exclaimed with all the vehemence of a curse. Without turning she called to her companions, "Chuchie‼ You're up!"

Another of the catgirls, this one a brunette a shade between Bonnie's mousy brown and pure black and sporting a dappled coat with both stripes and spots stood from whatever she and the final darker skinned catgirl were doing and turned. Upon spying the blonde she grinned ferociously. Striking a battle pose, wicked twin claws a foot long slid out the backs of each of her hands, another single one four inches in length appeared between her first and second toes, curved raptor-like. "Good," she growled. "I was hoping to try a hero on for size, and since Kim Possible is unavailable, I'll take her prized student!"

Meanwhile Bonnie had her hands full dealing with the runner's twin, who was alternating between kicking at her and slashing downward with wickedly long claw-like fingernails. She felt where they dragged across the arms of her jacket as she shielded her head and face. While the Kevlar-backed velour resisted tearing she had no doubts how bare skin would stand up to such an assault. Finally the attacker left an opening for the angry brunette. Over-extended on a kick that had been dodged, the other teen left her supporting leg unprotected. With a doubled arm swipe, Bonnie swung at it, connecting with all her might. The dark cheetah went flying. At over seventy miles an hour she cleared the burning windshield and hood easily.

_"Aquaaaa‼"_ she screamed. Her twin, still a few steps from making the truck glanced back and spotted her sister's peril.

_"Angie‼"_ she leapt high. _"Tag!"_

Bonnie felt, or imagined she felt, something pass her between the pair as the first finally grabbed the truck and the second flipped in midair to literally hit the ground running. Cars that had yet to get the idea of moving out from behind a vehicle on fire and traveling backwards at high speed swerved and skidded. A few tapped each other, increasing their spin-outs, while the rest slammed to screeching halts just short of them.

The assailant raced to catch up.

"I need to get to Tara!" the mousy-haired girl yelled.

"Brace yourself Ms Rockwaller," SADIE replied. The AI pulled the car into the next lane and accelerated swiftly to pull in front of the armored vehicle, where the driver and shotgun could be seen divided between staring at the flaming sports coupe, and the activity they could hear on the top of their cabin._ "Ally oop."_

Bonnie barely got out a "Huh?" before the seat cushion she was standing on popped up, catapulting her up and over the flames in a perfect arc for the black-skinned catgirl erecting a device of some kind on the van's roof. It looked like an tripod-mounted automatic auger, like ice fishers use to bore holes in frozen-over lakes. Pinwheeling her arms to regain her balance, she put a twist into her flight to bring her foot around in a spinning kick.

_"Inconceivable!"_ shouted the youngest of the group, causing the girl to look up from her assignment. Her eyes widened in surprise just before the foot connected, sending her flying backwards across the van's roof. "Bubbles!" the small girl cried as she leapt, easily catching her dark-skinned compatriot and slamming her down hard, pinning them both to the rooftop.

The brunette landed smoothly, but her mind was a whirl because in the instant she had locked eyes with the black catgirl, she recognized the face. _Monique? Monique Lapowski?? No fucking way!_

She only stared for a moment at the unconscious black girl before taking note of Tara's predicament. Her friend was engaged with an opponent with some wicked-nasty looking claws. _Well, sort of engaged…,_ for the slip of blondness was not truly locked in battle so much as… dancing.

The long-clawed teen was attacking with wide and angry moves, swiping and kicking with not much finesse or grace. _And Grace just happens to be T's middle name._ Bonnie smirked at the serendipity of that, watching the blonde easily evade the more clumsy motions while taking advantage of every opening to land her own blows. Her opponent was weakening even as the first catgirl was finally clambering onto the vehicle's top.

_"Inconceivable!"_ swore the thirteen year old, standing to face Bonnie again. Her eyes took in the sports car racing backwards ahead of them, the fire finally almost burnt out, _with no one at the wheel!_

_"Inconceivable!"_

Bonnie smirked, "I don't think that word means what you think."

The little girl sneered evilly. "Seven-ten split‼" she called out, rushing at the brunette. Figuring that she could handle such a small fry, the mousy-haired teen reacted slowly. Which was her mistake. Using a move reminiscent of break-dancing the tiny thief threw herself low and brought her feet upward to connect with the teen's stomach. The blow forced all the air out of her lungs while physically propelling her high into the air and off the racing armored car.

Which also gave her an excellent view of the former running girl grabbing Tara from behind and pitching her off the back end. _Oh yeah, 'seven-ten split', I get it…,_ the Rockwaller girl had time to think, _Sadie might be able to save one of us…,_

_…but not both… ._

* * *

**Notes**: Yes, I know that SADI in the episode _Car Trouble_ had a different meaning, but that was Dr Freeman's personal vehicle. This is a different incarnation of his prototype.

Props to: _Sobriety_ for the ideas of the "award-winning roboticist" exchange and Tara forgetting what her name spells. Thanks Sober! Check out his fics. Links can be found on my profile's Favorite Authors listing.

While we know its not exactly true that Kim in any way trained Tara, Bonnie, or anyone else… beyond Cheer practice that is, and you have to imagine she drove them harder than other squads did theirs… its still how the rest of the world might see it. Might want to see it.

BTW, before anyone yells at me for it, I've lived in NJ, so I knows wheres I'm talkin' 'bout concerning the Turnpike odors…


	4. At Attention!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Kim Possible, Tara or Bonnie. They are owned by Disney and Mark McCorkle and Bob Schooley. Any original characters shown or mentioned belong to me and can not be used without permission. Okay?

**Totally Tara!**

Chapter Four – _At Attention! _

"Welcome to the _Zero Emission Universal Smarthouse,_ or ZEUS, Mark Two," Vivian Porter declared rather proudly, her arms wide in an all-encompassing gesture as she moved backwards to the center of the level. Tara and Bonnie were still standing in the doorway, having just followed her into the saucer-shaped structure, eyes blinking to adjust to the darker interior. "Come on in, let me give you the dollar tour," she cooed. "This is but the first level with two more below."

As the other blonde and brunette sauntered in – Rufus leaping down to explore on his own – Tara's eyes wide with unabashed glee and Bonnie's their normal narrowed slits, the doctor of robotics pointed out initial features. Three large pane windows set to one end looked out onto the water of the Bay Harbor. Parts of North and East Beaches were visible in the distance. Set under the length of the frames were a series of consoles, their purpose not self-explanatory. Immediately before them was a comfortable looking wide three person couch which, Vivian explained, the outer positions of could slide up to the controls.

Smack center of the level was a domed instrument-cluster pedestal with three chairs arranged around it. Apparently either the console or one of the seats could extend upward to the centralized domed skylight, again purpose undisclosed.

The twenty-something blonde continued to point out various other features, including several glassy tubes large enough to hold a person. She explained they were intended for suspended animation cryogenics-sleep and also capable of maintaining any sort of atmospheric conditions inside.

"What do we need all that for?" Bonnie asked snidely.

"I guess you'd really not have much use… ."

"They'll make excellent holding cells!" Tara enthused. "You know, for the criminals we'll arrest and capture until the authorities can collect them."

"Whatever…," the mousy-haired girl shrugged it all aside. She wandered as the blondes discussed the holding tubes more.

"…ithstand bombs like the ones…?"

The debutante mostly ignored the various clusters of computers, instruments, microwaves, _Mr Lattes,_ and whatever which did God-knows-what. Sure she would need to eventually learn their uses, after all it was not like she could expect simple Tara to comprehend them…

"Is that a pulse-Doppler radar weather monitoring system?"

…could she?

"You know it! Complete with live uplinks to weather satellites," Vivian smiled, nodding

"GOES?" the other squealed excitedly. For her everything about this was exciting.

"Ten to Twelve."

"Goes where?" Bonnie asked absently from where she explored a quarter way across and ahead from the pair. She checked her watch, "And it's only nine-thirty

"No, silly. _Geostationary Operational Environmental Satellites,"_ the answer came not from Dr Porter but from a barely acknowledging Tara as she experimentally poked at the unit, "Only numbers ten through twelve are active. And they're stationary, so it doesn't 'go' anywhere… wow complete with EPIRB and ELT receivers."

"With what now?"

Still hardly paying her friend any mind, Tara said, "_Emergency Position Indicating Radio Beacons _and_ Emergency Locator Transmitters_. For SARs."

Finally noticing what was actually coming out her squad-mate's mouth, Bonnie turned. Tara's rump was on prominent display as she was bent over examining something low to the floor. It waggled as she shifted her weight back and forth on her legs. The rich girl flushed a moment. _If she's going to do that more often, I should lift her skirt's hem at least three more inches…,_ "Sars?"

"Search and Rescues," came the absent response.

The brunette shook her head. _Must come from having a scientist for a cousin. Or more likely Vivian already mentioned most of it last night. They are an expressively communicative family after all, nothing like my own… ._

Full circle, she was back to the space-aged airlock-like double sliding doors of the entrance, though the inner one was locked open. Taking note of a closet just to the right she checked it out, finding it stocked with some high-tech mission gear including the blue and mustard jackets with swapped front panels from the look put together for their first media conference.

"These aren't quite the same," the Rockwaller girl noted with a critical eye. "They're a bit spiffier than the originals."

"They've been uprated from normal fabrics," Cousin Viv explained. "Outwardly the same, they're now infused and backed with space-aged polymers which are heat and flame retardant, waterproof, and impact resistant up to forty-five caliber rounds at thirty feet."

Tara's eyes got brighter, if that was at all possible, "Oooo, _animal stripes!_ Shiny!" Sure enough the jackets, boots and berets had black stripes on them.

"I know you love animal prints," the older blonde supplied.

Bonnie's grin was feral, "I see I'm a tiger. Very fitting."

Tara giggled.

"What, T?"

"I have the tiger stripes, B."

"What're you talking about? Black stripes on blue, yeah, nice, but what animal is _that?"_ the rich girl held up her mustard jacket, "Now black on brown, that's tiger."

"Silly… those are _zebra_ stripes!" the blonde pointed out various aspects of the pattern. "See? Wider, less zig to the zags. Zebra."

Bonnie glared at the closet. _I can't believe this! Tara's the predator and I'm… I'm _prey?_ Will the insults _never_ end?_

* * *

As Bonnie flew through the air, having been launched off the armored car, her thoughts snapped back to the moment. _Funny what you think about when sure you're going to die… _

The amazingly strong kick from the diminutive catgirl, in addition to having knocked the breath from her body, was sending the mousy-haired teen ahead and high of the racing armored vehicle. Now that her mind returned back to the moment everything slowed to crystal clarity for her. With a calm detachment she watched as her blonde friend was tossed from the back of the truck… _is she… flipping into a dismount??_ …before an awareness of another overpass looming up behind caught her full attention.

Like the day with the bomb in her bedroom, reflexes she hardly realized honed took over. As loathe as the debutante was to admit it, the extra hard routines Kim had put the cheer squad through, as well as offering pointers for things like gymnastics and track and field, came into play. Treating her situation as a routine going wrong, she resisted the urge to gasp and draw air back in, instead forcing the rest from her lungs and thereby reasserting her body's control of the process. That immediate cause for panic dealt with, Bonnie found her body flattening out into the lead-in of a Fosbury Flop, as if in mid-flight for a high-jump. _Just as long as I don't hit the side of the overpass! At seventy-five miles an hour that'll be a hurting I won't walk… or even limp… away from._

Fortunately for the mousy-haired girl the overpass was another of those for emergency services and state police… _And just where are _they_ with all this going down on their road?_ …to cross from north-to-southbound. She was not going to have to contend with traffic, avoiding vehicles like that old lame-o computer game which her mother loved. The one with the frog.

Bonnie cleared the initial railing with no problem, but could feel she was not going to make it across the bridge's entire thirty-something foot width and clear the other rail. Fortunately the debutante's Kim-envy kicked in. Unconsciously tucking into a ball, she then unfolded at the roadway's midpoint. Briefly palms were planted, protected from friction burns by the new-age polymers of her gloves. The entire over-passing roadway acted as a gigantic gymnastic vaulting horse, seventy-plus miles an hour meeting stationary, and the action debutante was kicked higher like a skipped stone, clearing her easily over the far-side railing.

Seeing she was coming back down to firmly remake a truck-top landing, she was able to turn her attention to where she last saw her partner… _Where the hell could she have been trying to dismount _to…?

Just a minute before the slip of blondeness had been dipping and weaving wickedly slashing claws nearly as long as the forearms of the perpetrator – Chuchie by name – waiting for the opening such evil-doers inevitably provide. She hiccuped an _eep!_ when her jacket was unexpectedly grabbed from behind and she pitched backwards off the vehicle. Which was when she remembered the dark cheetah-girl who had been climbing up the back…

…_and her twin!_

Once again her forebrain disengaging, Tara serenely tucked briefly into a ball, increasing her spin to bring feet back under her. Unfolding with a twist, the blonde could only see the Turnpike's blacktop racing underneath between splayed knees and legs crossed at the ankles.

That was, until the final inverse cheetah-skinned catgirl's face – the last one running to catch the truck – came into view, eyes wide in surprise. The sheer unexpectedness of the audacious maneuver had frozen the thief in place, or rather in relative position, unable to even think of swerving out of the way.

"_Angie‼"_ came a frantic cry from above. _"Watch out‼"_

Tara hit the girl's back, hands on shoulders, knees clenching for purchase at her waist. Grunting with the impact, arms were thrown forward as the blonde's one hundred and twenty-two pounds forced the furry one to fall face first. Palms slapping the roadway at speed, Angie frantically tried to regain her balance under the sudden load. To keep from plowing into the fast lane's hard asphalt surface.

To run on all fours.

Tara grinned sweetly as after about ten to fifteen feet the other under her finally regained a semblance of balance enough to ensure they would not end up in a heap. Executing a surfer's pop-up, in one smooth move Tara was upright, feet planted along the feline girl's back. She giggled, _"Whee! Cat-a-bunga!"_

"G'off m'back!" Angie growled, unable to do much at that speed under the load other than continue her all-fours scramble. "Aqua! _Do_ something!"

From the vicinity of the armored car, "Hang on Sis!"

That warning was enough for Tara to glance up. The dark cheetah-skinned twin was in mid-leap, right leg extended in a drop-kick. However the blonde was no longer there. She had already kicked off to the right in a side-twisting back-flip, the launch itself nearly upsetting the 'four legged' Angie into kissing the blacktop. Having been aiming for Tara's chest, Aqua cleared her sister entirely, nimbly landing on the roadway for but half a second before recovering into a leap. Working as she was with the physics of seventy mile an hour inertia, the rebound spun her into a hard somersault, clearing her over the car following a few lengths back to land on the hood of an SUV an equal length behind, denting it. Taking a few seconds to regain her bearings she looked about for the blonde… .

On the dashboard just above the glass half-globe that was the seat of SADIE's brain, Rufus had squawked in unabashed terror as he watched his newest human go flying off the armored car high into the air. Moments later seeing the brunette was going to remake the truck he sighed in relief just before being pitched from dashboard to backseat as SADIE shifted itself into motion. Skidding wide to the side while reorienting nose to front, the Smart Cart fishtailed around just in front of a Mac truck in the slow lane for the besieged vehicle's rear only to stop in the middle lane upon finding the blonde leaping straight for them.

At some point Tara's subconscious had locked in not only the positions of everything about the armored vehicle – which came in handy in the form of using Angie as a landing pad – but also somehow knew the computerized car's response would place it where she needed it to be. Consciously the blonde never gave it a second thought.

Or a first, for that matter.

Rufus regained the dashboard in time to chitter excitedly as Tara skidded across SADIE's hood, first polymerized soles, then palms, screeching in protest like rubber across dry glass. She came to a stop with lower half hanging off, legs bent at the knees to prevent feet from touching the ground racing below.

Atop the armored van the one with the foot-long claws, Chuchie, watched in begrudging amazement as the slip of blue and blondeness first avoided splattering across the blacktop, and then evaded her acrobatic teammate. The pronounced blades retracted back into hands and feet. She started to turn back for the cab of the van and the auger-like rig when a shadow crossed her face. The catgirl had just enough time to register the dropping mousy-haired sidekick before she was, well, _side-kicked._

_Incoming!_ Bonnie's heel connected across the feral girl's chin. Her head snapped hard to the right, body spinning to follow, tail wrapping legs.

"Chuch!" Having been focusing on trying to revive the one which looked like Monique – Bubbles she had been called – with light slaps to the face, the youngest cheetah-skinned thief dove across the width of the armor-plated roof to catch her companion.

While making one rebound flip before sticking her 'dismount' near the rigged-up drill over the driver's compartment, the teen-aged debutante took note of the little curly-haired blonde's strength for the third time. The first had been when she kept Monique-Bubbles from flying off the vehicle. The second had been the wickedly vicious kick which sent Bonnie flying, and this third display was equally impressive. Leaping off the vehicle after Chuchie, the tween wrapped one arm about a waist while gripping a virtually invisible seam in the armored metal with the clawed fingernails of her free hand. After a _thwump!_ against the side of the van, the slight blonde tossed up the unconscious body before struggling to pull herself up as well.

"In…con…cievable…," she panted, glaring daggers at the brunette.

"There's that word again," Bonnie snarked, arms making a _voilà!_ gesture.

Struggling to pull herself fully back onto the blue Camaro, Tara looked up when she felt it lightly brake, a momentary pause designed to prevent the incoming Aqua's leap to miss her head. Without conscious thought the blonde hero swung right palm to catch behind the thief's heel. A movement of only two inches more than enough to throw the attacker off balance, causing her to land on her butt, rebounding off and in front of the semi. The hyper-acrobatic thief used her high-speed inertia to redirect into a jump which carried her just past the truck's cab where she was able to snag mirror mountings.

Both girls pulled themselves up onto their respective vehicles.

Bonnie watched with a measure of unease as the super-strong cheetah-skinned tween regained her feet, tawny eyes flashing and tail jerking side to side in feline anger. _Can't let her get close to me again._ The auger-drill at the edge of her vision provided a bolt of inspiration._ I'll just remove their reason to continue this fight…_ With a grinning sneer, Bonnie delivered a few rapid side kicks to the rig, first couple to free it from its tap-welds, then off the vehicle completely.

Turning back from watching as it bounced over the K-rail dividing the roadways from truck and cars-only south-bound traffic, a couple cars swerving to avoid the thing amid blaring horns, the young blonde stared hatefully at Bonnie. "Shadowy Military Dude didn't say you'd be this much trouble!" Quickly scooping up the unconscious Bubbles and Chuchie, one over each shoulder, she ran to the rear edge of the roof.

"_CHEETAHS‼"_ she called at the top of her lungs, "Withdraw‼"

Then she was gone. Despite the load of her teammates she jumped, leapfrogging easily across the tops of vehicles like stones across a river, leaving dents with each landing until reaching a semi in the farthest northbound truck lane.

Acrobatic Aqua had just gained the top of her truck when the order came. "Angie?"

"Here!" the running twin called, maneuvering behind SADIE and alongside the eighteen-wheeler. "Ready!" Once her sister had leapt onto her back similar to how Tara had, but apparently more prepared for it, she cut back across the traffic and hurdled the divider. At seventy miles an hour they too were soon out of sight.

A few minutes later found both heroes slipping back into their automated car.

"Good work!" … "Are you okay?" … "…thought you were a goner!" … "…kewl how you went over that bridge!" they babbled at the same time while hugging each other, Rufus dashing back and forth between them trying to hug both as well. Their reunion was interrupted by insistent beeping from the dedicated cellphone.

"Team ATAR," Tara answered lightly, ignoring her friend's grunt of exasperation, "Who's calling? Oh! Hi Snow! Huh? Oh sure, we're both fine… You're okay, right Bon?"

"I'll survive. Uhg! _Chill, _Rat!"

"Yup, both okay, Snow! Y'all doing okay in there? Kewlies! B, do we want to stop?" The brunette shook her head and tapped the gas gauge with a fingernail. "That's a negger-tory there Snow, we'll stick to the pit-'n'-piss stop schedule. Okkiees! Uh-huh, yup, buh-bye!"

She hung up. "That was Snow, B."

"I never would have guessed…," the brunette rolled her eyes. "SADIE, can you locate a former schoolmate of ours?"

"I can of course try, Ms Rockwaller," the AI's warm female voice washed over them. "Whom shall I search for?"

"Monique Lapowsky. Her current whereabouts and if she's done any recent travel outside of Middleton in the past week."

Tara frowned slightly, "What's up, B?"

"One of those catgirls was the splitting image of Monique. Could have been her twin but for the ears and fur," Bonnie explained.

"No way!"

"Way."

SADIE responded, "I highly doubt then it was Ms Lapowsky."

"You sure?"

"Well there is never a one hundred percent guarantee with anything, Ms Rockwaller," the half-globe pulsed in her direction. "However her phone records show she has not left the Middleton area in the timeframe specified. In addition she is and has been in a telephone conversation for the past forty-four minutes with her brother."

"Told y'so," Tara wrinkled her nose at her suspicious friend.

"Yeah, well, it's always good to be certain," the debutante asserted. "Hey! You don't monitor _our_ phone calls, do you? Specifically, _mine?"_

"Of course not Ms Rockwaller. I am incapable of such an invasion of privacy unless at the explicit instructions of authorized users such as you and Ms Queen," the car's brain assured.

"Yeah, well, let's be sure to keep it that way."

"Certainly, Ms Rockwaller."

"Good." Bonnie needed the last word.

The rest of the trip, including two stops for gas and food, was uneventful. Four hours later found the two-vehicle convoy pulling up to the receiving docks of the Jeffersonian in D.C.

As by previous agreement, the armored van remained sealed while the teenaged heroes met with several people. Most were obviously warehouse types waiting to unload the exhibit pieces. Three, a man and two women, separated to meet Tara and Bonnie half-way. Tall and darkly handsome in a business suit the man flashed a badge in one hand while extending the other in introduction, "FBI Special Agent Seeley Booth."

Trying to keep her hormones on an even keel, Bonnie took it, "I'm Bonnie Rockwaller and this is my partner, Tara Queen. Of Team TARA." The blonde waved brightly.

Agent Booth smiled affably. "I hear you had some excitement on the trip down. Glad to see you handled things and everyone is alright. You're sure the perpetrators never breached the car?"

"Positive!" Tara assured. "Bonnie like, totally stopped their drill thingie practically before they even started."

"No big," the words were out of Bonnie's mouth before registering she was using a Kim-phrase. Mentally she kicked herself. _It is so a big! I mean, we kicked cat-tail and foiled a robbery in progress!_

However once having taken a stance of modesty, there was no appropriate way to take it back.

"Yes, so I hear you Middleton cheerleaders say," the agent grinned as one of his women companions cleared her throat.

"Booth, aren't you going to introduce us?" A brunette with mildly feathered hair and clear grey-blue eyes asked. She was gorgeous enough to trigger the mousy-haired girl's jealousy reflex.

"Just waiting for your not-so-subtle reminder there, Bones," he grinned at her. "These are my associates, Dr Temperance Brennan and Ms Angela Montenegro, both of the Jeffersonian."

"Like, nice to meet'cha!" the blonde stepped forward taking each of their hands in turn. "Thanks for using the Recovering Agents of Tactless Assistance."

"RATA? It's T - A - R - A. Y'know, _your name?" _

"Riiight… ."

"Oh, Sweetie, I like her," the other woman, an exotic blend of various ethnicities among which Asian was the strongest around her eyes, smiled saucily while nudging her friend. She also triggered Bonnie's jealousy reflex, but the candid sizing up and appraisal made her flush as well.

Bonnie turned to the agent, "Don't mind Tara, it's Tactical Assistance and Recovery Agency."

"Angela," Dr Brennan said evenly, "they are still teenagers."

"Barely," the sexy beauty retorted. "Both are clearly over the age of consent, and if they're not doing each other I'll kiss each of them. With tongue."

"Oh, we're no-mmmph…," Tara was silenced by her sidekick's hand clamping over her mouth.

"We're not here to discuss our personal lives," Bonnie interjected smoothly, hoping the bold woman was joking. _Very smooth lady, I'll give you that much! _She whispered in Tara's ear, "If we deny we're lovers she'll be trying to give us each a 'French Lesson'. I'd rather they think us a couple than that."

"We're a couple?" the blonde whispered back. Her intently shining eyes took Bonnie back a bit.

"I…I'll explain it later, T," she put the topic off for the moment. Angela was watching them with a bemused and knowing expression.

"Really Angela," the man spoke up, "must you mess with them?"

"Aw, but they're so cute!"

"I'm going to have to agree with Booth on this, Angela," Dr Brennan chided. "Now is not the time to be pursuing another one of your sexual conquests."

"Who said anything about just one, Sweetie? I'll take'm both. At the same time. With chocolate syrup."

Agent Booth hemmed over that. He turned to the girls and verbally distanced himself from the free-spirited woman. "Yeah, look, I apologize for my associate's associate. Apparently we don't let her out of the lab often enough. Can you ask the guards to pop the back so we can get started offloading?"

Tara nodded, pulling out the special phone, "Sure thing! Haya, Snow? Yeah, it's okay to open up." Seconds later the back clicked and the Tweedles swung the doors wide, stepping out. Immediately the work crew moved in and started to unpack the vehicle. As soon as each crate was offloaded it was opened and the two women examined the contents.

Midway through the process Dr Brennan shook her head. "Booth!"

"What ya got there, Bones?" the good looking agent ambled over to look over her shoulder. If she was uncomfortable with how close he got she gave no indication.

"Just as we feared, most of the shipment are fakes." She pointed into the crate she was standing over, "However this skeleton is neither a fake nor one of the exhibit pieces."

"Are you certain about this Bones?"

Angela nodded. "Oh, she's sure."

"Absolutely," Bones nodded. "See? This individual has no prognathism, a notable size prominence of the cranial and forehead region, a narrow, tear-shaped nasal cavity, a silled nasal aperture, tower-shaped nasal bones, a triangular-shaped palate, and an angular and sloping shaped eye orbit."

"Yeah, well obviously," Booth nodded as if he understood. "I mean, who could fail to see all of that?" He looked at Angela.

"The person was white, and not one of the races associated with ancient Egypt," the woman translated.

"Ah! See, Bones? Why couldn't you say that?" Booth gestured.

The anthropologist looked at him slightly puzzled, "I did."

"I meant in non-squint-ese," Booth countered. "So, what, a mix-up in packing? A cross-up among the exhibits?"

"Not unless the American Museum of Natural History has a Hall of the Recently Murdered," Bones turned back to the crate. "This person has been dead less than two days."

That caught the agent's attention. "Are you cert…," he paused, holding up both hands, "…you know what? Forget I started to ask. Of course you're certain. Just tell me _how_ you are."

"This is only preliminary. For absolute certainty we'd have to submit it to a complete analysis at the lab. However, according to the scratches in the nasal cavities this man was initially submitted to a partial and amateurish mummification process." When she saw him staring at her blankly, she added, "His brain was pulled out through his nose."

"But he's a skeleton, not a mummy."

"Considering how polished the bones are I'd say the flesh was removed by an acid bath."

"And the two days timeline?"

"See this depression of the left parietal bone?" she indicated the side of skull high above the ear hole. "He most likely died from Blunt Object Trauma. The sharpness of the fracture edges has not yet had any time to wear or dull, which even exposure to air will do." Again she looked up. "That's as far as I'm going to speculate without a proper and thorough examination of the remains."

Booth clapped his hands, "Right! You get the squints right on that."

Angela nodded, "Don't worry Sweetie, I'll see to it." With that she nodded two of the workers over and proceeded to give them instructions while the agent and woman walked over to the teens.

"Girls," Booth started, "what can you tell us about any of this?"

Bonnie shook her head, "Nothing really. The armored car was already being loaded when we first arrived at the museum in New York."

Tara added, "There were twenty-seven crates still on the loading dock. That one was one of them. It was sealed just like the rest."

The dreamy agent raised his eyebrows, "That's pretty specific information, are you certain?"

"Oh she is," the debutante nodded, "Her unconscious memory is like a DVR. You'd be surprised at some of the stuff that gets caught up there."

The woman turned a studious gaze on the blonde, "Fascinating. Eidetic or hyperthymestic memory?"

Tara went, "Hmmmb?"

"Bones, now is not the time for that," Booth chided her. "Anything else?" he prodded the slip of blondeness.

"Oh sure!" Tara proceeded to relate with great detail everything she remembered since their arrival at the New York Museum. While exhaustive, none of it was of much use. "And then they ran off. Since then no one or nothing else got close to the truck."

"How about you?" Booth turned to Bonnie.

"Nope, sorry, T pretty much covered it all… waitaminnit!" she snapped her fingers. "The little strong brat did say something about a 'shadowy military dude' who didn't think we'd be the trouble we were."

"'Shadowy' probably means they never got to see him in clear lighting," the agent _tsked_ in disappointment. "Many contractors are hired in such fashion."

"But Booth," started Bones, "Then how would she have known he was military if he was in the shadows?"

"Ah!" Tara exclaimed suddenly, startling them all. "I know who it was!"

* * *

Two hours later that night, a pair of Bell 206L LongRanger helicopters, carrying a total of ten armed FBI operatives not counting pilots, Booth, Bones, Bonnie, and Tara were closing in on Manhattan's American Museum of Natural History. In addition to wearing flak-jackets, all wore headsets to facilitate easy communication. Having had to leave SADIE behind, the teenagers sat back listening to the cross chatter.

"_Public hours for the museum are over. All public entrances should be sealed"_

"_Suspect's vehicle is still in Administration Parking, along with about a half dozen more."_

"_Then whose are those in the public lot?" _Dr Brennan's voice pointed out.

"_Possibly belongs to grunts packing the truck to move out the missing exhibit pieces."_

Bonnie added, _"Then in that case they'd be in the lowest level of the parking structure, where we loaded up."_

Booth's voice, _"Everyone clear on who we're looking for?"_ A series of affirmative responses flooded back. _"He is the principle target, the rest are small fish and of lesser priority for capture. Still, let's try not to lose any._

"_Bones, you and the girls are to sit tight. Wait in the bird."_

"_But Booth… ."_

"_I mean it, Temperance." _That paused the woman. For the agent to use her first name was an indication of how serious he was._ "Stay in the helo!"_

"_Alright Seeley, I'll stay with the girls."_

The tall man nodded in satisfaction as, with near military precision, both aircraft settled down in the public parking lot – closed and cleared after hours – closest to the parking structure. Doors were already opened and the armed men and women of the FBI strike team hit the pavement even before the skids touched down. Slightly bent at the waist they rushed for the entry ramp.

In quick order they were lost in the darkness.

Once the sound of distant gunfire floated back to them, the forensic anthropologist took off her headset and shouted over the engine winding down. "Well? What are you waiting for?"

Bonnie smirked, pulled off her own set and hopped out. Tara looked puzzled but followed. As they closed after the others she said, "But we promised we'd stay put… ."

"No, _I _promised I'd stay with you girls. I don't recall either one of _you_ promising anything," Bones gave them a half smile.

"Dr Brennan," the rich girl said, "you are positively devious. I admire that."

Just before they reached the ramp leading downward, Tara pointed, "There he is!" A figure had burst from a fire-exit door, heading for around the front of the glass cube enclosing the Hayden Planetarium and the main avenue of Central Park West. A white lab coat could be seen fluttering in the sparse lighting.

"He's making a break for it!" Bonnie added unnecessarily.

"Halt!" Bones called out. "FBI! Drat. Why do I even bother? They always run."

"But we're not federal agents," Tara tossed while sprinting.

"Of the three of us, I'm the closest to one. After all I'm Booth's partner."

"Run feet, not mouths!" Bonnie shouted as she and the blonde pulled ahead. They were younger than Dr Brennan and, unlike her one-inch heels, wore boots with polymerized rubber-like soles. They were almost caught up by the time their quarry made it to the main avenue. Despite the glut of early evening crawling traffic he did not stop, but plunged directly into the sea of cars, most of which were taxi-yellow.

"He's headed for The Park!" Bones added from her position ten paces behind the young heroes.

_No shit! Is one of your several doctorates for Stating the Painfully Obvious?_ the rich girl thought. With barely a glancing nod to each other she and her partner vaulted from the pavement to the hood of a slow-moving cab. From there they ran across the top of cars and taxis, each of which began blowing horns in objection. Several indignant drivers and a few passengers shouted creative and pungent curses after them. _Wow, and I thought I had a stinging vocab… ._

Just as the smocked perpetrator was clambering over the stout stone wall which defined Central Park from the rest of Manhattan, Team TARA tackled him high and low. All three of them tumbled in a heap across lush green grass.

By the time Bones caught up to them, she had her cellphone out, "Booth! We got him! Just across the street in Central Park. Can we talk about that later? We have him!" Putting it away she pulled out a set of handcuffs her partner had given to her a while back. Tara and Bonnie were sitting on the struggling man's back and pinning his arms behind him. Bones snapped the cuffs on. "You are under arrest for Grand Theft and the Suspicion of Murder…"

Once secured, the former cheerleaders-turned-heroes rose up off the man and together the three women pulled him to his feet.

"…Dr Achie Loligest."

The elderly scientist glared at them. "How'd you know? How'd you know it was me?"

"Oh, easy," Bonnie sneered. "One of the cheetah thieves mentioned a military man in the shadows… ."

Tara finished with a bright smile as she stepped in front of him and adjusted his glasses for him in the same unusual fashion he always did: with the edge of her hand. She then did the same to her own forehead…

"…so we, y'know, thought we'd come in person to salute you… ."

* * *

**No****tes**: During the time my inner creative flow was stunted, something broke inside me as apparently I was under so much stress my BP went beyond the neighborhood of 200/100. My meds have been doubled twice… but I'm starting to feel better as it comes back under control.

If you haven't already figured out, the band of thieves in Chapters 3 and 4 are _The Cheetah Girls, _or rather 'neko-ized' or transformed catgirl versions of. Actually a combination of the versions from both the Disney Channel Original Movies and the original series of novels by Deborah Gregory from which the movies were inspired. The books featured five girls with Dorinda, at twelve years old in her first appearance, the youngest of them. I kept 'Do Re Mi' about the same age and also reinstated Aqua's twin sister Anginette who had been dropped from the screen for lack of finding suitable twin actresses. I use the DCOM actresses for descriptive purposes except for morphing Sabrina Bryan younger, and for the appearances of Bubbles and Monique. Although both characters are played by the same actress, "Monique's" design supersedes Raven's.

How these Cheetah Girls got and get to be this way is yet to be revealed.

A **Go Prize** to whoever might offer a _close guess_ in a **Review.** This particular Go Prize is **Selecting the Next Fic Update**. Yes, the winner gets to jump their favorite Me-only fic to the top of the queue, **including** any of the _upcoming fics currently on my profile page _but **excluding** any _Redlined_ sequels or collabs.

Offer **expires 2 weeks** from the update-posting date of this chapter, winner shall be posted on both my profile, just under the Update section, and my DA Journal.


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